electricland

Failed the full Advent calendar experience, but hey, there's still 2 weeks to Christmas! Here are a couple of songs to get you in a wintry mood, even if it hasn't been cold where you are.

A little Simon & Garfunkel:



And a gender-switched take on a problematic classic:

With many thanks to Cover Lay Down, please listen to this amazing rendition of Warren Zevon's "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" by Naomi Bedford. Phenomenal. I will be checking out the rest of the album; if you liked Nick Cave's Murder Ballads, I suspect you should do likewise.

Listen here.

In unrelated news, Mary Robinette Kowal has issued what I consider to be a brilliant challenge: a month of letters. I love writing letters, and I don't do it often enough, and I have a gajillion cards hanging around. So I believe I will do it. (There's a badge too, which I will grab... later.)

I only met Sam 3 or 4 times. The last time I saw him, M had brought him over for a play date. We took the dogs to the off-leash area on the beach, where they garnered many admiring looks as a fine handsome pair of Airedales should. He'd grown taller than Blue by then, much to M's surprise. He was bouncy and friendly and full of energy - a typical Airedale puppy, in fact. He was a struggle to bring up because of all that energy, but M and J were doing a great job and he was learning.

He should have had much longer.

M was walking him by the Humber River yesterday afternoon when they met some other dogs. She decided to let him off the leash - something she never normally does, except in a fenced area to put on a flexi instead. She doesn't understand why she did it. He ran away from the other dogs and to the river, and wouldn't come back, and slipped in. I'm not completely clear what happened next. I know M went in after him at one point; and some people brought a boathook or something but wouldn't, or didn't know to, try hooking it to his harness; and some people wanted to call 911 but someone else said they wouldn't come for just a dog, so they didn't. Realistically, it probably wouldn't have made much difference, but...

Someone brought M home and sat with her, and at some point she called my parents who called me, and also the police. We met her at the door, hoping for a miracle, and went down to the river to search. The police searched too -- at least 2 cars and the Marine Unit. I am so impressed by the police response. But nobody found anything.

The Humber moves fast, and it's wide, and right now it's almost covered with rotten-looking ice. I climbed down the bank in a few places and kept well away from the edge, hanging onto trees. If you fell in you wouldn't come out. I was shocked when I saw it. There's no ice out here in the Beaches, nor in the Don apparently. My new rule: no rivers. Lakes are OK. Rivers are treacherous.

There's no better feeling than walking into your home and getting a joyous greeting from your dog. It was so hard to go back to the apartment and see all the dog toys and blankets and dishes and crate. M said "He should be here."

I hope it was quick enough that he didn't have time to be too scared. I am so sad, and there's nothing anyone can do. M was distraught. She blames herself: for letting him off the leash, for not looking after him, for not calling 911 sooner, for not doing something different that would change the outcome. She keeps seeing his face as he went in. To make it even worse, her boyfriend's in Korea on business.

We all make stupid decisions and mistakes sometimes. It's just luck that most of the time, nothing bad comes of them. This time Sam wasn't lucky.

I came home and hugged the dogs and wished things were different.

I just caught up on the Flashpoint season finale. Jen and I reckon Nicholas Campbell, Paul Gross (to whom Jen refers to as "Men With Brooms Guy" for reasons that are obscure to me) and Dylan Neal have a future as patriarch and warring brothers on some all-Canadian family drama one day. Too lazy to embed, but click those links and tell me we're wrong!

I ate way too much yesterday but had a fine time with both sides of the family. (Eggs Benedict/Florentine/Benjamin and fruit salad with mum's side, then turkey dinner with million trimmings with dad's side. Champagne and hilarity throughout.) Thoroughly spoiled. Parents are coming over later for Boxing Day tea, which means I should probably make a bit of an effort to tidy up.

As always I left wrapping to the very last minute, and I have to sing the praises of Japanese decorative tape because it SAVED MY LIFE Christmas Eve. My packages are now about as minimalist as it gets - giant roll of Kraft paper, decorative tape, occasionally some fabric ribbon, sticker or tag. Everyone seemed pleased by what they got, hurray!

I also went to "Babe in the Barn" at Riverdale Farm Christmas Eve, and was part of a hastily improvised choir (my mum and I were the only female members) intended to encourage the audience to sing. You start off in the drive shed, follow the shepherds down to the outside of the barn, pick up the three wise men, quick stop at the Simpson House steps for a scene with the innkeeper and his wife, then into the barn for the full Nativity scene. (Baby Jesus had a pacifier and behaved very well.) You couldn't hear A THING people were saying, but the singing came off well (I did a descant on O Come All Ye Faithful, which I would never have been able to do if we had sopranos, so that was fun). And there were sheep in the barn and it was actually really lovely, though cold. They don't advertise it at all, apparently - it's a deep dark neighbourhood secret - because if they did it would be even more packed than it was.

Now I am off work for a week! I would like to think I'll get lots done but let's face it, I'll probably mostly lie about reading and eating.

As it is the Feast of St. Stephen, have a rerun from Day 19 of the Advent calendar.

Oh hey, remember Green Trees Red Hearts from Day 15? There's now a third Ho Ho Ho Canada mix. You can get it over at the Line of Best Fit.

So... here I am. I'll be hanging onto my LJ account, but I hear a lot of my friends have headed over here.

Listen here.

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong are never wrong, and they're particularly right together. Ella's solo version is also lovely.



The other seasonal jazz classic is of course "Baby, It's Cold Outside." It's acquired unfortunate overtones but I'm still fond of it. Here's a great version by Meaghan Smith and Buck 65.

Get the full musical Advent calendar here. | What is this?

Yet another Christmas collection for your listening pleasure!