I am sitting in a cafe called La Merceria, which is half a kilometer from my place. They have excellent coffee and good strong Wifi, and nice places to sit and work. The tables are too high, though–suboptimal for typing. The hunt for a perfect remote workspace, therefore, goes on.
Everything stops for two days, though, because tomorrow at the crack of dawn I leave for Edmonton, for my grandmother’s funeral. The quest for things like routine and workable coffee houses and reasonably priced produce will have to resume on the weekend. In the meantime, grieving is hard work and I’m slogging through that instead of working on my novels.
Speaking of heavy, this week’s Buffy Rewatch covers “Weight of the World.”
Things that are nailed down and delightful: the yoga studio, Downward Dog, is marvelous. We did meditative/restorative yoga on Sunday–what Muppet calls ‘blankie yoga’ and it was a lovely experience. The brekkie place, Cora’s, not only gives you tons of fruit with breakfast but lets you order it without melons. We have much of our stuff unpacked, including the television and comfortable seating, and are finally up to date on Game of Thrones, even as the Internets explode with ewww and squee over it.
Our couch arrived when it was supposed to and the Frogboxes were taken away when they were supposed to go, and the only things standing between me and getting all the extra crap out of my office are a storage bed that’s due to arrive on June 8th or so and a shelf to be acquired later.
Toronto is full of photo ops. I have a Flickr Set with about fifty pictures in it already.
I’m up to “Intervention” on the Buffy Rewatch.
Plas related to our relocation are coming along. We have firmed up locations and dates for services, arranged some important banking and medical stuff, and acquired a bed. (Our frame is busted and isn’t coming with. Anyone want a pristine queen-sized futon?) Tomorrow the Frog Boxes arrive and we start packing.
I am obsessing over the bird checklist at the Leslie Street Spit. There will be owl photos.
In the midst of this, my mother-in-law is in town, which is super-delightful! We’re cat-sitting for friends for a bunch of days. And we are saying a lot of goodbyes. Holy crap do I know a lot of people in this neighborhood.
Way back when I was watching BtVS the first time through, I thought “I was Made To Love You” was the saddest damned thing I’d ever seen. Then, of course, “The Body” aired the following week.
I’m hoping that as the show gets grimmer, the rewatches will get funnier. Because, really, it’s tougher to say silly things about the nigh-perfect episodes, and out-funnying the funny ones is tough too. But the actual watching–some of it is going to be very grim, especially as I hit S6.
We’re moving into more of a discussion of Spuffy with my essay on “Crush” on the Buffy rewatch now.
As with any series of columns, there’s some lead time in play here. “Crush” is the rewatch that’s on Tor right now; this past week I’ve watched “The Body” and “Forever.” I’ve been to a lot of family funerals in the period between the initial airing of these episodes and this month, and it made the experience of reviewing them more intense. I am really looking forward to getting a little distance from the tragedies of season five. I’d be looking forward to it even more if a lot of what happens in S6 and S7 wasn’t so grim. Still… musical episode soonish!
Or, as I put it, “Singing in the key of Key!”
Because I am always a few weeks ahead of the blog on these rewatches, I’m writing the essay on “The Body” this week. Grrr, arrrgh. I need a hug.
On the television upside, all sorts of things are now on! Game of Thrones, for example! (Though episode one was a little dull, I thought.) Mad Men is on soon, too, and the DVR caught Mr. Selfridge last night while we were out getting stretched at Open Door Yoga.