Just spent an hour dancing around my kitchen to the music on Randy Bachman’s show – he was playing original takes of hit songs and then covers, to compare versions – ended with the Beatles’ version of “With a little help from my friends” and then Joe Cocker’s – heaven. Me dancing. Thank heavens my son, who has a bad cold and dropped in to visit on his way home, has passed out on the sofa. The embarrassing sight of their mother dancing has always been the worst humiliation for my kids.
So so happy to be dancing in my own kitchen. Back to routine – the Y, across town to visit the little family with the happiest boy on earth, home. Last night, I hadn’t even unpacked when dear neighbours Jean-Marc and Richard dropped in. We ended up eating defrosted chili here and rushing off to see “The Life of Pi,” which is thrilling – so beautifully shot, a strange, mystical story with incredible effects. It stars, as you probably know, a Bengal tiger, so marvellously created. At home, I looked at my own small tiger, the crabby cat, with a new respect.
Friends have been emailing with the kindest messages about taking care of myself and not burning out. One of my oldest friends offered to help with the cost of my airline tickets, can you imagine? So generous. Don’t need the help but so appreciate the thought.
I am planning the last classes of the year and will not cancel them unless something truly catastrophic happens in Ottawa. I’m staying PUT.