It isn’t always about choosing

Hello everyone,
hope the new year,
so far,
has been good to you.

Still holding true?
To your resolutions?
Making plans,
moving forward?


I've shared this before, Calvin and Hobbes, never gets old:-)

I have,
mostly,
stayed the course,
as far as,
my not overthinking things,
plan is concerned.

I had a slight,
slide back,
last week,
got all weird,
with myself,
others,
about expectations,
but...
I am back,
on my path.

You might recall,
in December,
I said I would,
pick a project,
a creative endeavour,
to work on,
this year.

I have spent,
more than a month,
being with friends,
family,
etc,
working, reading, 
watching, observing,
absorbing.

I have chosen to not,
chose,
not yet.

I will be taking,
the Alpha course,
at St Jax of Montreal,
exploring,
the spiritual,
in my life.

They are nice people,
very nice.
I still don't know,
if I will follow that road,

the church road I mean,

But I will follow,
the 'class',
ask questions,
meet people,
break bread.
With an open mind,
and,
an open heart.
I will also be,
attending,
Sunday service,
from now and up until,
the end of the Alpha course,
afterwards,
we shall see.

I am in my second week,
of an online,
photography class,
with shawacademy.com,
my BFF gave me a voucher,
for a free class.
I chose the photography class.

I love photography,
been taking pictures,
for a few years,
learned it on my own,
trial and error,
with varying results,
but,
it makes me happy.
If there is one thing,
I have learned over,
the years,
it's that you always,
have stuff to learn.

Even in the first few classes,
about basic principles,
a couple of lights,
went on in my head.
Very enjoyable.

My promises to myself,
to take concrete steps,
in political,
action,
are also moving along,
meeting people,
networking,
going to the women's march,
on Saturday.
A world wide collective,
protest to the disturbing,
trends in politics,
all over the world,
but,
mostly with our neighbours,
to the South,
we stand with you,
sisters and brothers.

Keeping my journal,
reading everyday.
Being the best,
friend,
daughter,
girlfriend,
person,
I can be.

Letting,
light,
beauty,
thought...
in.
 
Going to keep doing that,
for a while,
sometimes,
it isn't abut choosing,
it's about being.

Be well you all.

Later girls,
BB


Further thoughts on Pride and Butch

Good morning all,
hope you are all feeling well.
Enjoying yourselves,
the Summer,
vacation,
the heat,
anticipation of Fall,
whatever floats your boat.

Been a busy week for me.
Worked quite a bit,
caught cold in the,
much too high AC,
combined with wet feet.
I'll live,
it's just a cold,
but, 
I am feeling miserable.

Watched as much of the Olympics,
as I could,
it seems every time I sat down,
to watch after my evening of work,
it was beach volleyball!!!
I am not a fan.
Last night was track,
I like track,
and Canada has been doing well,
better than expected and hoped for.

But mostly this week,
I have thought about,
finding a new job.
I went on an interview,
they offered me the job,
it seems ok,
but...
I don't know,
mind you,
Ok,
is better than not.

I have also been reflecting,
on Pride.
I had a wonderful time,
at the parade,
last Sunday,
part of that,
is the company,
I was keeping,
and,
the nice weather,
the Prime Minister...
it was a good parade.

But,
it was also,
the fact,
that Pride has changed.
It used to be,
Brave and out,
individuals,
lots of leather guys,
drag queens,
some 'seen a lot' dykes,
there are still those,
which is great,
the rainbow,
but,
also,
the gay family alliance,
Helem,
an Arab gay association,
that fights homophobia,
within their own community,
and,
so many more,
old, young, gay, bi, poly, trans,
everyone marching, dancing and singing.
So many more,
out and proud than ever before.

The newer generation,
if polls and statistics,
can be believed,
is much more accepting,
of the LGBTQ community,
are there homophobes,
in the younger generations?
of course there are,
but,
there are less-
the younger adults,
don't really see,
homophobia,
as,
acceptable,
again if statistics are,
to be believed,
they are the gayest generation,
they just see it,
as another way,
of being.

Funny,
because that attitude of,
acceptance,
brings up something else.
Many of them don't get,
the need to label,
ourselves,
we are like every one else.
Well...

Not quite,
our rights are not,
respected everywhere,
in the world,
in many places,
homophobia is the norm.
Wearing labels,
embracing labels,
is part of our empowerment,
part of our being us.
We can choose to be,
"like everyone else"
buy a little house in the 'burbs,
make babies,
or we can be out butches,
flaming queens,
whatever the hell,
we want,
that is liberation,
being who we want.

Just like the,
feminist liberation movement,
fought for women's rights,
 auto-determination,
to be employed,
equal bread earners,
free from the obligation,
to marry or suffer,
poverty and or scorn,
but, 
also to choose to raise,
their children,
be free and emancipated,
women in the home.

My label,
self-imposed,
is like that,
to me.

People don't shout dyke or butch,
at me,
occasionally they call me sir,
and are mortified,
when they discover,
their error,

Pro tip, if you call someone,
sir or ma'am and see that you,
are mistaken,
don't make it worse,
by apologizing and making a big deal,
about it,
realize and learn,
stop insisting on gender dizing,
everything and everyone,
just say,
hi, can I help you?
No gender identification,
required.

These are some,
post Pride thoughts,
I wanted to share,
with you all.

Be well.

Later girls,
BB


bookshops and peaches and a longed for anarchist

Hello you all,

hope you are well,

we have just been through,

a horrible heat wave,

here,

in the beautiful ugly,

scorcher,

but,

it only lasted a few days.

With August,

just around the corner,

we might have another one or two,

of these deep heat periods,

but,

soon,

Fall,

will be upon us.

I love Fall:-)

Since my operation,

and,

the resulting weight loss,

I feel the heat,

less,

I mean,

everyone feels ,

forty degrees celsius,

but,

I suffer,

less,

having given up smoking,

I also don’t feel winded.

I find myself,

enjoying the Summer,

the laziness of it,

it is almost,

like when I was a child,

and,

had my Summers,

to myself.

I work but,

not that many hours,

I can walk around,

bask in the sun,

think,

take pictures.

One thing I haven’t done much of,

is,

read.

This makes no sense,

I have time and opportunity to read,

outside on my balcony,

in the park,

traveling on public transit to work,

but,

the urge isn’t there,

I still read,

but,

so much less than I used to,

in the past week,

I have been wondering,

why?

I’ve had internet for years,

I can’t blame that,

so I wonder,

what?

When I had,

my bookstore,

I had to,

and,

wanted to,

read,

I read current things,

and,

things I had on the shelves,

I was always acquiring new books.

Since I closed it,

I read less, much less,

I still have,

a ton of unread books,

in the house,

my girlfriend and friends,

have sent me books,

lent me books,

I have bought books,

and,

yet…

This week,

two flashes of feeling,

may have put me on the trail of,

why does BB read less?

I felt a big ache in my heart,

so to speak,

when people shared info,

on their Face Book page,

about the used bookstore that will be opening,

on Wellington st,

here in my Verdun neighbourhood.

I should be happy about it,

having our own used bookstore again,

patronizing a place of books,

a member of the ‘tribe’,

and,

in a way,

I am,

I wish the young man opening it,

nothing but good fortune,

and,

sales.

I can’t help also,

feeling,

hurt at it.

I know,

it’s ridiculous,

I chose to close the store,

and,

it was the only decision I could make,

but,

the sense of loss,

of…

failure,

lingers.

That isn’t a good feeling.

So, when people say,

isn’t it great we are getting a bookstore? 🙂

part of me thinks,

“damn right’,

and,

part of me thinks,

“damnit, we had a bookstore”.

the other feeling that,

put me on a trail,

of why I am reading less:

Ontario peaches.

What??

You see,

my friend, the anarchist,

loved Ontario peaches,

as much as mom and I,

Ontario peaches remind me of him.

When I had the bookstore,

Francoys would stop in,

every night to say,

Hi and chat and smoke and talk of books,

and,

everything under the sun,

he would often have stopped at,

the fuit store, the grocery store,

the cheese shop…

and,

he would buy Ontario peaches,

as soon as they came out.

He would usually eat,

the entire basket in one evening,

two evenings if he wasn’t hungry

We usually had a peach,

right there,

in the bookstore or rather,

on the stoop.

The first basket is never the best,

but,

even ‘not the best’ Ontario peaches,

are still better than most things,

they signal the time of great harvest,

the time of delicious and rejuvenating,

food,

harvest,

right before Fall,

a magical time.

My heart hurt,

again a little,

when,

mom brought

home,

the basket of peaches,

I miss Francoys,

so much.

I read less,

since I closed my bookstore,

and,

since I lost Francoys.

I miss him,

I miss it,

maybe reading more,

will take some of the dull ache,

that persists,

away..

maybe.

I’ll have to sit with that,

a spell.

Be well,

all of you,

enjoy the Summer.

This weekend,

I am going to the Highland Games,

with my mom,

hopefully some nice pics will follow.

Later girls,

BB

Words, only words

I’ve been thinking about,

words,

a lot,

lately.

Words,

are important to me,

vital,

in fact,

at times,

my buoy,

a life line,

usually,

when,

my actions,

my motives,

fail,

my words,

come through.

I know, I know,

talk is cheap,

and,

a picture is worth a thousand words,

I always thought that a gross under-estimation- pictures can be War and Peace size novels

I’ve thought in my,

ego inflated youth,

that I had a way,

with words,

that I could talk my way,

into,

and,

out of,

lots.

I’m not the best talker,

the smoothest talker,

but,

I think,

I can be engaging,

adept at the art of conversation,

and,

I love words.

I speak two languages,

no merit there,

I was born into,

a bilingual,

family,

home,

clan.

Some people work,

hard,

to learn,

another tongue,

I didn’t,

they were both around,

always.

I like to think,

I speak them both,

well,

with fluency,

and,

ease,

and,

a love for their,

history and permutations,

and,

vernaculars.

I love them both,

they are both,

in my blood,

in my soul.

I am neither,

French speaking,

nor,

English speaking,

but,

both,

a hybrid,

a Metis,

as my friend the anarchist would say,

I mean no disrespect the ‘real’ Metis, it is meant more as an explanation of someone, who, like me- is both and neither:-)

Sadly,

my written French,

is mechanically and grammatically,

challenged,

my grandmaman would be disappointed

my efforts at written English,

have been greater.

I love the written word,

books,

songs,

jingles, even,

a good, clever turn of phrase,

clear concision,

they impress,

delight,

me,

feed my thoughts,

lighten my heart.

I get excited,

about a perfect lyric.

I mean,

one,

that appears simple,

with a straightforward,

meaning,

and,

yet,

when you listen,

again,

sneaks up on you,

with layers of meaning,

a Cohen lyric,

or a Lightfoot refrain,

cadenced,

perfection,

that matches the music,

the two,

married,

the lovely,

music,

you want to sing along,

you must,

you are compelled to,

as if it was about you,

as if someone had reached,

into your guts,

your head,

your heart,

and,

sometimes even your loins.

That’s what words do,

to me,

are to me,

mean to me.

Words are never,

only words,

to me.

Later girls,

the rambling, babbling butch

BB

 

 

 

 

 

 

New paths? Sure

Snowy morning,

it’s been a cold week,

seems I say that a lot,

lately,

but,

what else you gonna say,

In February??

🙂

I could say I have been suffering,

from writer’s block,

but,

that would be presumptuous,

me,

not really being a writer.

It’s been a slow week,

and,

everyday,

helps my resolve,

to give up,

the book business,

I feel good about my decision.

All kinds of ideas,

are floating around,

the vast attic,

that is my mind.

Should I write,

finally,

the novel I’ve had percolating forever?

Should I think about,

going back to school,

and,

taking a whole new direction?

Should I consider moving to another city,

one with a better economy,

and,

better prospects?

The answer to the first question,

keeps coming back,

yes,

a resounding yes!

The other two are no’s,

I don’t want to embark,

on an academic career,

at my age,

thing is,

I don’t want a career,

I’m not ambitious,

except in the,

‘I want to be happy’,

sense.

Honestly,

I am happy,

mostly,

I want to make a little money,

replenish,

the very small,

coffers,

and move on,

towards the future,

and,

whatever that brings.

I am not fatalistic,

I think life,

has much in store for me.

It,

life that is,

has already been,

plenty generous.

It’s given me,

intelligence,

rakish good looks

(wink)

kidding,

family,

friends,

of the top notch,

variety,

and,

quite simply,

a chance to love,

the most wonderful woman in the world.

Is more really necessary?

Well,

aside,

from continued good health,

and,

an eventual Spring,

I think not:-)

So here’s to exploring,

new pastures,

roads,

streets,

and,

paths.

I figure,

with all my synapses firring,

my notebook,

backpack,

a song in my heart,

and,

an open mind,

oh, and, yeah, a compass, have to compensate for my wonky sense of direction:-)

I’m good to go.

Quite the process,

changing your direction,

when,

your trailor has been parked,

for years,

accumulated dirt and dust,

need to be scrapped and shaken,

but,

I’m up to the task,

I think,

says the shaking and quaking butch

I hope you all don’t mind,

me writing about it,

some of you,

are undoubtedly,

facing similar,

re-alignments,

or have in the past.

Have a great day.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

Sometimes…

it feels like,

I’ve walked half a mile,

turned around,

and,

there went,

twenty-seven years!!

Really,

and,

I’m not even that old

🙂

imagine those who are??

I was doing my Face book,

and,

Pinterest stuff,

and,

a friend posted,

how it had been,

twenty-five years since,

the Challenger blew up,

turns out it’s been twenty-seven years, but, heh, long time, either way.

I remember sitting on a couch,

with my roomate,

at the time,

and,

seeing this,

live,

F***,

mind blowing,

disturbing,

to say the least,

astronauts blown into dust,

with the world,

and,

a bunch of grade schoolers,

whose teacher was on that mission,

watching

(:

The longer you live,

the more you remember,

this sort of stuff,

where you were when

the big things,

and,

the little things.

The Berlin Wall coming down,

yeah, that was a great day:-)

The end of Apartheid,

another great day,

the twin towers,

crumbling,

such horror,

and,

sadeness.

The point is,

time flies,

whether,

you are having fun,

or not,

might as well,

have fun.

Talk to your friends,

dance,

eat delicious food,

make good, good love,

think,

read,

don’t obsess,

about shit,

you can’t change,

live,

write,

kiss her,

go on,

do what makes you happy,

try,

no to hurt anyone,

live,

your life.

Every day,

brings new discoveries,

once in a blue moon,

an epiphany,

life is like that,

slow moving,

blindingly fast.

So…

Pinned Image

let that be at the back of our minds,

always,

life isn’t about,

instant gratification,

it’s about patience,

rare epiphanies,

and,

some awful,

explosions.

and,

it’s about the love,

of a good woman,

the soft fur of a cat,

the warm bitter taste,

of coffee,

my mot d’ordre for the near future,

is,

5 Tips on How to Build a Better Blog

oh and go for walks,

that always helps.

Later girls,

BB

**thanks for listening**

Yep, butches are girls, too

There are notions,

floating around,

in the blogospheres,

and,

elsewhere,

that being a butch,

is somehow,

not really a girl,

stronger,

or,

weaker,

depending,

on perspective,

and,

besides,

what really makes,

a girl,

a woman,

anyway?

It sure isn’t the trappings,

of societal definitions,

doesn’t have much,

to do with,

heels,

dresses,

or,

lipstick,

and,

it really has nothing,

to do,

with perceived weakness,

being a girl,

being a woman,

is so much more complex,

than the likes of me,

could define,

jeez,

I’m not even sure,

I could define,

butch,

so woman?

Not a chance:-)

Funny,

my friend Pierre,

said something,

yesterday,

in passing,

it was neither,

sexist,

nor,

meant as a put down,

he mentioned Pinterest,

and,

how it drove him,

crazy,

everyone trying to sign,

him on to it.

I smiled and said,

I had an account,

and,

I was very,

fond of it,

so he said,

‘of course you do, you’re a girl, girls love Pinterest’

and I thought to myself,

hum, interesting,

I bet tons of girls don’t,

and,

tons of guys do.

The thing is,

some things seem to appeal,

to girls,

more than,

to boys,

and gender,

is so much complex,

than I could have imagined,

years ago,

I didn’t think of these things,

I just always liked ‘boys’ stuff,

did that make me a boy,

nope.

Does the fact that I giggle,

occasionally,

make me girlie,

or not,

I don’t think so.

I live my life,

quite happily,

with my butch attire, accoutrements,

and,

you know,

that doesn’t stop me from,

feeling,

all woman,

and,

all butch,

simultaneously,

complicated stuff,

gender,

yep,

but,

we manage,

works in progress,

one and all.

Weird ramble,

isn’t?

Feeling good,

feeling loved,

feeling like a girlie butch

Wink!!

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

writers… type

I changed,

the header,

I borrowed it,

from tumblr,

I picked a typewriter.

For one simple,

maybe even,

simplistic,

reason.

When I think,

writer,

I think,

type,

and even,

typewriter.

I don’t know why,

perhaps,

because,

the writers,

I most admire,

typed.

My favourite writers,

are mostly from,

the 20 Th century,

there are exceptions,

but,

by and large,

yep,

20 Th century.

If I believed as does,

my friend the anarchist,

that the great novels,

are of the 19 Th century,

than,

I would picture writers,

with pen and paper.

Instead,

I picture,

writers,

smoking and ponding away,

at the keys.

Mr.Williams even has a cup of coffee,

is it any wonder,

he wrote such plays,

of angst and yearning?

My man Leonard,

poet, mensch,

even has a guitar:-)

Hem has the open sky.

Irving’s may be electric,

but,

it’s still a typewriter:-)

Harper Lee,

wrote one book,

but,

what a book!!

and on?

yes,

you guessed it,

a typewriter.

So I chose my header,

because to me writers,

type,

and,

although,

I have no illusions,

I have aspirations,

to be a writer.

I type on a mini keyboard,

of what is,

barely,

a computer,

a little blog,

but,

in my mind’s eye,

it is a good solid novel,

pecked out,

two fingers at a time,

on a typewriter.

A butch has to dream,

no?

Wink.

Later girls,

BB

Legitimising their illegitamacy??

Labour day weekend,

the last official weekend of the Summer.

I hope you are all enjoying yourselves:-)

I’ve had a terrific weekend so far,

I worked on Saturday,

it was a good day,

sunny, cool, good moods.

Yesterday, was a family BBQ,

my youngest nephew turns four.

We spent the afternoon,

eating vegetables and dip,

and,

sushi,

and enjoying the sun,

and had a lovely Barbecued salmon dinner,

lots of good humour,

and,

good food.

We talked a lot,

we talked politics a bit,

tomorrow,

is the provincial election,

I expected arguments,

and,

idealogical disagreements,

there were none.

We all agree that the government,

we have now is corrupt,

and,

has been there far too long,

but,

we also agree,

that we could do worse,

imagine???

we are not,

enchanted,

with our choices,

a rock and a hard place.

I will vote tomorrow,

after work,

accompanied by my mother,

who always votes.

I feel the ‘out of touchness’

of our provincial politicians,

more acutely,

than any others,

there seem to be no ideas,

promoted, discussed,

they are all stuck,

in early seventies ideology,

but,

these are tough times,

we need to discuss things,

rationally,

not emotionally,

we need to stand facing the future,

not glorying or wallowing,

depending on ideological bend,

in the past.

I’m also so sick,

of hearing,

about the hard done by,

middle class,

and,

they’re bloody taxes,

I want to hear about what we will do,

to improve the education,

and,

health systems,

how we can eradicate,

poverty,

homelessness,

how we are going to fix,

our infrastructure problems,

and,

the environment,

and,

not make the poor,

poorer in the process,

aren’t governments supposed to be,

about governing for the benefit,

of all?

Even those who don’t vote?

Shouldn’t they be about fairness,

and,

social justice?

I know, I’m being naive,

but,

I think if they counted up,

all the votes,

to fringe parties,

plus spoiled ballots etc,

they would see that,

what is thought of as voter apathy,

is more like,

nobody is listening to the voice of the people.

The 1 per cent runs things,

the middle class are brought in,

every few years to validate,

the continuity of corruption,

and,

power,

and,

the rest of us,

have no voices,

unless we have blogs<wink>

This problem of non representation,

is widespread,

just look at the Republican candidates,

for President and Vice-President,

and,

tell me they are in touch,

with the people??

We need to get involved,

we need to make our voices heard,

no matter of tone or accent or leanings,

we need to talk,

in order to talk,

must we vote?

I confess I’m not sure,

perhaps when we all stop legitimising,

their illegitamacy,

we can build again?

What do you think?

Happy Labour Day:-)

Later girls,

BB

A riff on coffee and verandas

It’s a hot day,

breezy and damp,

I know that sounds,

contradictory,

but,

this is Quebec,

the land of the contradiction

🙂

The humid air is giving,

my sinuses,

a bit of,

a hard time,

oh well,

I’ve got my nehti pot:-)

So,

I’m sitting on the balcony

having my third cup of coffee,

before you start that, coffee isn’t good for you BB, herbal tea is where it’s at stuff, let me say this: a recently published study, in the New England Journal Of Medecine!!! states that people who drink six cups of coffee per day live longer, fifteen percent longer!!  At this rate I might live forever. So, in fact coffee is health food, roll over wheat grass juice:-)

So, I’m having my coffee,

a new blend I got at,

Starbucks,

blonde coffee,

mellow veranda blend,

and my mind,

starts to wander,

Veranda,

an evocative,

beautiful word,

of light Summer breezes,

the churping of birds,

the smell of warm grass,

swinging on a swing,

Veranda,

nice,

a butch can dream,

of her woman by her side,

reading in silent companionship,

looking up,

to see her looking at you,

smiling,

dude purring,

crickets,

virtual silence,

seersucker,

ball caps,

and,

the joy and peace,

of afternoons on Verandas,

with the woman you love.

The power of coffee,

the evocative nature of,

words.

Here’s wishing you,

many afternoons,

on verandas.

This one’s nice:-)

Later girls,

BB