Allies of Flesh, Leaf, & Stone

Welp, the appointment didn't happen!

D and I clicked the link for the video consult and signed in and everything and then nothing happened!

D tried to call them, got an automatic message that said we'd called outside their operating hours or whatever, but then said they were open until 5pm on Wednesdays and it was just past 3pm. Very strange.

So he sent an e-mail but of course we've heard nothing back; I didn't expect we would until tomorrow.

It made for a strange afternoon, having to go back to work. I wasn't up to doing any thinky work but I had admin work to do so it was good to catch up on that.

Then I took Teddy for a walk, he was so excited to see me after a couple days where I couldn't make it or I was not needed. It's chilly out because it's so windy, but it was a sunny day and the sky was wonderfully blue.

I wanted to make dinner but V suggested putting a frozen meal from the freezer in the oven and we did that. Thai green curry, so I made rice to go with it. Even though I wasn't hungry, I ate mine pretty quickly.

I listened to a podcast interview with Dick Bremer, and had a bunch of feelings because it was the first time I'd heard his voice since he called whichever was the last regular-season game I watched in 2023.

D had gotten me a present, intending to be a "well done for getting through the thing" but it arrived this evening even after the thing had not happened. I opened it anyway: it's an amazing bottle of gin called Moonshot because each batch of Moonshot Gin likely has some molecules in it that came in contact with a rock that was once actually on the moon. The botanicals in this gin were freeze-dried by being sent towards space -- not really "space" because the Kármán line is a further 80 km up. There they were "exposed to extremely low pressures" the label copy says, adding one of the sillier phrases I've read off a bottle: "(after 18 or 19km the pressure is already so low that water and fluids in the body boil at body temperature!)"

Luckily the gin also tastes nice. It's a gimmick but it's worked extremely well on me, and it's lovely to feel so looked-after as to get a surprise present in acknowledgement of a big thing.

Even if we're no closer to the big thing than we were before.

Yesterday ended up so unexpectedly nice, I wanted to record it.

D messaged me mid-afternoon to say that circuits was happening again that evening. I used to love transgym circuits, I did that as well as lift club almost every week and I've never been happier. But then our usual awesome trainer stopped doing circuits, which is fair enough but I was/am so used to their style and so comfy with it, and then the replacement started doing more of a boxing style fitness class, which was not to my taste (or accessibility needs: my lack of depth perception was posing too much of a problem) and then I kept being busy on those nights or whatever and I just stopped going some time last fall I think.

But I've really missed circuits; I love circuits. It feels like such a good workout for me: I can do even exercises I hate for a minute or two at a time, I never get bored, and I feel at the end like I've really Done Something. I used to have to bring bandanas to tie around my head to keep from getting too much sweat in my eyes, and I forgot to do that last night and really missed it! Because it's hard work.

And most of the people there weren't our usual old circuits people but people I knew from lift club who hadn't been to circuits before (or, did it like once a very long time ago or whatever). Including one of my favorites, who I said I'd meet outside and go in with together. I was really excited for him because I thought he'd love circuits and he did.

And, when I suddenly found myself with plans to be out for the evening I thought I'd start dinner prep right after work -- i did this last Friday when I went to yoga. But as I was still peeling sweet potatoes, D came downstairs, having finished work earlier than usual, and offering to help. So we just made all of my very easy plan for dinner (bangers and mash) and I had plenty of time to eat before going to the gym. It was lovely to spend the time together, it made an easy thing easier but also just so much more fun: being silly together in the nice sunny kitchen (I'm still not used to it being that bright at dinner time! it wasn't totally dark when I was getting showered after the gym, at about 9pm! bliss).

And I'm very glad I was able to eat beforehand: even with V warning me as I left the house "take it easy! you're out of practice!", even though I did take it easy, I was so sore by the time I got home. I knew not to sit down before I got upstairs and in the shower because I'd never stand up again. But I was so happy, too -- and it wasn't just the endorphins making me think that.

Since the day that I had no brain juice, I feel like I've been improving slowly, but from a low bar.

I had to miss a social thing that D's girlfriend organized on Thursday night, and I didn't go to D&D (also at her house) this afternoon because I've had a stabby bad-nystagmus-day headache on and off all afternoon and didn't think anything so visuals-intensive would be good for me. Between this and no lift club yesterday, I've been feeling in need of more socializing. And I feel like I didn't make much of my weekend, last night aside.

Last night was amazing though. After a little bit of annoyance at the insufficiency of the transport information given between the Britain First rally (ugh) that afternoon and preparations for the marathon today, both of which were between my house and the Bridgewater Hall, I determined the train would be best and -- with a little bit of running at the last minute -- it went smoothly. Like I said, it was angelofthenorth's first visit to the Bridgewater Hall, and I was glad that she liked it as much as I hoped she would -- she already wants to go back in the next few days.

We had surprisingly great seats, considering that when I called up to get tickets and was asked where I want to sit, I said I didn;'t care and I just didn't want to pay a lot. I don't think I'd heard Duke Ellington's Harlem before, but just like all the Duke Ellington I had heard it was a delight -- highlights were watching the conductor Joshua Weilerstein bouncing and flailing around, almost as if he was dancing to the music himself. Miriam exclaimed to me afterwards about the harp matching the double-basses.

The second piece, Nikolai Kapustin's Piano Concerto No. 4 was introduced to us as "wacky jazz but with rock, soul and maybe even funk hiding behind the very bland name. From where we were sitting, I could admire the pano soloist Frank Dupree in his forest-green suit who always had his hans flying around the piano keyboard, but next to his grand piano was a drummer at a trap set who was arguably a second soloist for the piece. It was really extraordinary, a ton of fun. When they finished, the pianist said "Would you like to hear some more?" (much to the surprise of the conductor, M later told me! she did the best audio description) and the well-mannered audience cheered enthusiastically enough that he seemed genuinely surprised in his reply, "Wow!"

For this obviously the orchestra wasn't involved, just him and his drummer pal whose name I didn't catch. The other musicians on stage watched along with the rest of the audience as these two played Kapustin's Concert etude No. 1. It had a drum solo! During which Dupree "snuck" away from his piano to come up behind the drum kit, theatrically grab a couple of drum sticks, and play right along with the drummer in a call-and-response way that deserved the chuckles it got (including what sounded like some use of the music stands etc.), with him getting back to his piano stool and send his fingers flying across the keys.

And then after the interval the main event, Antonín Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, ‘From the New World’ which the intro said some of those players might have played 100 times, or 50 times. He described it as helping them pay their mortgages. The audience was asked how many had seen it performed before, how many had listened to it... M was expecting us to be asked how many of us had played it, to which of course I'd have been so excited to raise my hand. I hadn't listened to it in about 20 years, but I knew almost all of the symphony, and when we got to my beloved last movement, I couldn't sit still in my seat. I played bassoon for that in a band that didn't have strings, so I heard familiar parts not just in the bassoon but cello and double bass. Neurons that haven't gotten to light up for 25 years got to glow.

We joined the crowds decanting ourselves into the shiny darkness and on to Oxford Road station, with about ten minutes before our train home. I was still so excited I couldn't sit down while we waited.

So I wish I'd made more of my weekend to fend off burnout and some challenging things ahead of me this week, but last night was better than I had any expectation it would be.

We have a spice mix grinder, with lemon and garlic and chili and sea salt in it. It's so good.

But when I tried to add some to our dinner tonight, I noticed it wasn't really working. Despite it being single-use plastic, I managed to take apart the grinding bits, and when I couldn't scrape away the gunk I just left them in some water to soak.

I was just thinking I haven't done anything today, but I've done that. Tiny little thing that should make the future nicer. And more flavorful.

It's kinda funny, this morning I saw someone say

The most important "productivity hack" I have learned is to recognize when my brain is out of juice for the day. It has a very distinct feeling to it. Once that happens, no work of quality or substance will get done, no matter how long I bang my head against it. So, I might as well go home and rest.

And then I proceeded to have a day at work of just that kind, but sadly I didn't feel able to go and rest until about four o'clock.

It's such a miserable way to spend the day, absolutely knowing that I'm wasting my time for the sake of presenteeism. I'm not sick, I'm not even particularly tired, I'm not struggling in any obvious way, I just...need to rest, and think, and maybe read for myself. Nothing work-related feels possible.

I did so many things again!

(I was thinking, after the four-day work weeks the last two weeks, how rough it's gonna be getting through five days this week. And both of these first two have felt like a few days each.)

I woke up at about six, and wasn't getting back to sleep, so I did what I often do between April and September (well, July at least): started watching the previous night's Twins game on my phone.

This time, that really woke me up: they (against another exceptionally good pitcher!) scored eleven runs in the first two innings! Garrett Crochet only got five outs before they sent him to the showers. It was wild. So fun to watch. I was giddy afterwards.

By seven, I'd gotten bored of telling myself I'd get up and go to the gym before work, a special skill only available to me in the lighter half of the year so I haven't done it yet this year.

It's so much quicker if I can ride my bike than if I have to walk, but my bike tires needed inflating first and I've never managed it on my own, but D did talk me through the process the other day so I figured it was worth a shot... And I did it! Went very smoothly. (My front tire was so low that hardly registered as having air pressure at all when I attached the pump, aww....)

I opened the door into a cool sunny morning, that smelled like burnt sugar. If the wind is just right, we can just about catch the delicious scents from the McVities factory. It felt like a magical way to start the day.

I went to the gym, didn't stay long, got home and showered and dressed for work by a time at which I've been just waking up on some weekdays lately. I had an okay work day, a lot of meetings to slog through, but with a nice one at the end of the day where someone I rarely speak to wanted my advice specifically about something to do with internal communications. She's so fun to talk to, and she was really flattering my ego with this "you were the first person I thought of to ask about this..." And I got a really adorable rendition of her plans to go to the gym herself after work, her upcoming holiday to Cornwall for a family gathering...so that was a fun way to end the work day.

Then, for the second day in a row, I walked both Teddy and Lizzy. It was kinda miserable today though: Lizzy was so intent on going a certain way that was too much work for me, that she refused the walk she's specifically demanded the last few days, and all I could do was drag her and Teddy up and down next to the A-road which she kept trying to dive into every few steps because she really wanted to be on the other side of it and only let me walk her along it because she was convinced at every point we'd be crossing the road.

Then just as we got back, the Tesco delivery showed up half an hour early (I'd actually seen the van stop on a nearby road when I was out with the dogs, and figured there was no way we weren't next on the list, so I wasn't as surprised as I might have been!), such that poor D had to choose between dealing with the groceries and returning the dogs to their home down the street. He took the dogs, and luckily they were good (they can pull a bit when they're near home, like a lot of dogs do I think, because they're excited to get there). I'm glad he chose that because I got the minimally-helpful driver, and spent much more time bending and reaching and lifting than I do if they're a little more careful where they put the crates and less staring-at-their-phone.

It was fine, everything got in the house, but with that right after the dog walk I was surprisingly tired! So I was glad when D did most of making dinner, he managed to find a good use for something we keep being sent as substitutes that isn't really suitable for us.

Last night, D and I started watching a documentary about why the Expos left Montreal, and it's so fucking depressing and so similar to Oakland and the A's! Also, knowing what I know now about, like, how most ownership groups are cashing in on their teams, and how bullshit it is to make taxes pay for rich people's stadiums...Stuff that happened when I was a naive kid (12 during the strike in 1994, for example), I now see in such a different light!

I thought I spent the whole thing making grumpy gloomy comments about the greed of billionaires and the doom of consigning civic institutions like sports teams to them. But when I tapped out halfway through -- I had a headache and thought I should sleep -- I told D to watch the rest without me and he said it wouldn't be as fun without me going "oooh, Ian Baseball!" I've passed along Andrew's old habit of referring to abstract or hypothetical entities having the first name Ian, so in this case, the Ians Baseball were, like Andre Dawson and Marquis Grissom. I've taught him about the joy of Remembering Some Guys, and apparently it works even secondhand! I did worry that the Guy Remembering was over by the halfway point of the doc, and indeed tonight's half was just depressing stuff, including David Samson who could hardly be more cartoonishly The Rich Bad Guy from a movie (assuming that the original prototype for that, Donald Trump, wasn't chosen): even his voice sounds evil. It was very touching to see so many old Québécois men weep openly though. I like baseball because it's so low-stakes, until it's not.

And then I was D's unglamorous assistant as he climbed up a ladder with multiple flashlights to take pictures of our loft (for solar panel purposes) and now I'm looking forward to going to bed!

I can see a little, so I do care a lot about light and contrast and things, so I'm not in the exact situation that a Blind online acquaintance describes here, but so much of this resonates with me. Especially as we're under increasing pressure to have cameras-on internal meetings at work.

"I am an unwilling cameraman, shooting an obscure documentary about my own face" resonated so hard with me!

My own parents are the even worse about this, though. As per entries passim, I talk to them every week. The only comment I've heard them make about my visual appearance is excessively unkind to say the least if not overtly transphobic, so it's not as if I'm motivated to share my face with them. Yet recently when my webcam was broken for a couple of weeks, my mom could barely carry on a conversation because of how distracted she was by this.

And her language is so telling. It's not "We can't see you" it's "We don't have you." It makes me feel so trapped -- pinned, like a bug in a collection.

It's the same as Robert describes his friend: ""Oh, You're gone! Where did you go?" I don't go anywhere! My mom says "Are you there???" even while I'm already talking. Like he says, " I didn’t go anywhere. I am right here. I did not teleport. I am still in the same spot I was just a few seconds ago."

My new webcam is a nightmare. It doesn't even show my whole head on the screen if I have the monitor as close to me as I otherwise went it. It has way too high a resolution: I've never seen all my facial features this sharply, and I'm very distressed to start now!

Being able to see a little means I am aware of how I look, and you know how people hate the sound of their own voice on recordings because that's not how it sounds to them? I feel like that about seeing myself on video calls. (I actually mostly love the way my voice sounds on recordings, heh.)