we live in a neighborhood that i am thankful for everyday. we regularly share amazing moments with our neighbors. tonight was one of those times. krista and rudy organized a wonderful autumn celebration for canadian thanksgiving. we gathered at their place, everyone arriving laden with bowls of food and bottles of wine. 2 organic turkeys.....so the scent of roasting turkey was drifting down the street all afternoon. and a long table heavy with food. laughter and eating and wine. children being coerced to eat enough of whatever item they didn't want to eat. dogs waiting for the sloppy eaters to let something fall. and then someone suggested some fresh air before bringing out the pies. so all of us sauntered down to the lake, while the children raced. i found a pocketful of beach glass. we climbed on the rocks.

and then wandered back home to pumpkin pie, apple pie and butter tarts. and a little more wine. the children were begging for tickles. and attention of any kind, really. we found intriguing conversations about our different but similar fundamentalist christian childhoods. and then it was time to gather our bowls and walk across the street to our homes with a goodie bag of turkey and pie to bring home.

we are lucky to share our lives and our homes with the wonderful people we call neighbors. happy thanksgiving.

soooo, a long time ago it was my tenth birthday. and i thought it was pretty cool that i was turning 10 on the 10th day of the 10th month. my father pointed it out to me. but then he added that someday it would be the 10th day of the 10th month of the 10th year of the next century. and from then on this has been the birthday i've looked forward to. it didn't seem possible as a 10 year old that this day would ever come. but here it is......and there hasn't been a day quite as numerically lined up since 09-09-1809. and the next one won't be for a couple hundred years: 11-11-2211.

all i really wanted was to wake up in a sun-drenched room under a new duvet and a fresh white cotton duvet cover. we've been so busy with the house renovation that our bedroom has been overlooked, with too much unfolded laundry and dust. so with a couple hours of folding and organizing, i was able to go to bed and wake up in our room exactly as i like it. that was all i wanted. (that, and the gray gothic kitchen cupboard i can't stop thinking about for my kitchen). and tom gave me a winter's worth of reading with all 6 volumes of proust's 'in search of lost time'.

it's a gorgeous day and we are off to enjoy it. my morning has been fabulous, topped off with all kinds of wonderful wishes from my facebook friends. thank you so much.

sifting through pebbles to find softened and dull, tumbled pieces of glass is my favorite way to relax. sitting at the very edge of the lake with the waves continually moving the pebbles and soaking my legs, deafened by the sound of the water and focussed like a hawk on the beach, is my perfect escape. i've carried home countless buckets of glass. glass that could be hundreds of years old. they are so lovely and each one is entirely it's own. i store them in mason jars piled in my front porch, corners of the living room, in the bookshelves, at the studio......anywhere i can stash a few jars. i used to catalog them by date, enclosing a note in the jar with the date and what the day had been like. but what i really want to do is gather the glass, and although i cataloged for years, that extra step became bothersome. i can usually sit by the edge of the lake well into october without being too cold. and the last few days have been like summer so it's perfect. but i remember gathering glass on new year's day once.....the lake must have stayed open that year. and in winter when i crave the touch of the glass and it's music, i pile glass on the dining room table or in a big basin and run my hands through it, finding special little pieces. visual and tactile.

last night hockey season started. the montreal vs toronto game. tom & i cheering for opposite outcomes. hockey is a culture of it's own in canada. it's something that unites and divides and illicits a passion that surpasses politics. most of us chose our favorite team before we can remember why. in school we collected and traded tattered hockey cards as if they were gold bars. great bargaining lessons were learned at lunchtime, huddled in a group around a certain card, angling to make it yours. we played odd, made up games throwing cards against the wall to win all the cards in the game. and i have no idea whatever happened to my treasured guy lafleur card from grade 5. i don't love hockey like tom loves hockey, but i love hockey. and i'm glad we have a winterload of it to look forward to.

we have a cat named crabapple. but we really only call her crabby. and she's senile. she's about 15 years old and has lived with us for 10. but she has lost her mind. she started out a little odd. but quirky fits perfectly in our home. the first summer she lived with us i found a pair of flipflops sitting at our back door as if someone had just stepped out of them. and soon realized they had been a gift from crabby. she would carry all kinds of pilfered items from neighboring yards and bring them to the kitchen door. for years it was an embarrassment because she stole all day, every day. hats, pairs of shoes, underwear, bathing suits, socks, towels, clothing of all types, toys, dolls, and gloves.....hundreds of gloves. gardening gloves, work gloves, winter gloves. she brought home childrens homework, drawings, crafts, even a diary. i will always regret that i didn't photograph every item. it would have been an unbelievable collection. hundreds of items. a few years ago she stopped bringing actual items and concentrated solely on garbage and newspapers and scraps of paper...,20 -30 pieces in a single day. she would walk down the sidewalk with her treasure in her mouth, screaming loudly. people throughout the neighborhood knew her and people always asked about 'the thief'.

but this summer our yard wasn't littered with garbage. and mid-summer we noticed that crabby hadn't been around for a couple of days. we went to the humane society and after several weeks we were sure she had gone away to die. and then, near the end of the summer, edgar and i were coming home from our walk and he pulled me up the street that runs directly behind our street. walking down the sidewalk toward us was a cat with a familiar bow-legged shuffle. crabby had decided to move to a group of yards and the people who occupied them. i carried her home, sobbing with relief that she was alive. but when we approached the house she growled and screamed and fought. i got her inside and as soon as she could she snuck out and was gone for a week or more......when neighbors brought her home. this little dance went on for about a month.

she's with us now, but screams and growls when we go near her......not always. sometimes she climbs into my lap, or snuggles near my head on the couch, begging for attention and love. but it will inevitably end with a growl and a hiss. but she only threatens to lash out. she doesn't ever follow through with it. she is old and confused and......senile. but i'm glad to have her safely with us again.

i love going to the drive-in. we try to go once during the summer. there's a drive-in near our cottage in the middle of fields that are full of deer and skies with floating hawks. and a long concrete block concession stand where they sell nachos, popcorn, cotton candy and mosquito coils. it never matters what movie is playing.....the fun is packing the truck with chairs and quilts and a contraband cooler. and watching the sky grow dark around the big old out of place rickety screen. the images seem bigger and more magical out in the open than they do in a packed theatre in the city. i had never been to a drive-in until a few years ago. but when i was a child i remember driving past drive-ins and seeing the huge faces rising up out of nowhere. they were like paintings. portraits that moved, but silently. the image of a face, either elizabeth taylor or natalie wood.....i'm not sure which, floating at an angle above a road is sealed in my memory.

so, i'm thinking, october at the drive-in would be spectacular. a few more blankets and a thermos instead of a cooler.....but i'm off to hunt down a drive-in that is still open for this weekend.

this is my bag. the bag i've lugged around for 23 years. it has been with me, full of books and cameras and journals......it's my life line. i still have little things tucked in the zippered pockets from places we've been. sugar cube paper from paris. a tiny yugoslavian flag from when it was still yugoslavia. a long piece of my own hair wrapped in colored thread and beads from a week at the shore. there's a little wrapped chocolate from cafe de flore where i would go to channel simone de beauvoir. but it's age is beginning to become an issue. the straps are beginning to tear at the seams and some of the leather is cracking and tearing as well. i'm afraid to carry my camera and books in it now, they're just too heavy. i've been being careful with it for a while but i'm happiest when i have the old torn and cracked bag slung over my shoulder heading out for a little adventure.