At various points in my life, I’ve bought a French curve because other people said they were great.

I still have absolutely no idea how to use one, so I’m taking this poor, smashed-up thing out of my bag.

We had a little visitor in the back yard the other day.

Ah, the biggest challenge of blogging: keeping at it! Some time has gone by, events have piled up, and now the question is whether to let them slide away or try to capture them here.

So this doesn’t become a beaver-dam, I’ll do a quick recap of some highlights:

I went to Toronto for Strategic Coach’s end-of-fiscal-year team meeting, and that was pretty fun. The company did well, we got bonuses (I generously gave half of mine to Revenue Canada), and we did some fun team activities, including an afternoon running around the Royal Ontario Museum in teams collecting clues to solve a conundrum.

I managed to see some friends, but missed others. I do hate that dynamic — the King Solomon time management decisions an inevitable omissions.

One fun highlight, though, was spending an afternoon playing games at Snakes and Lattes with my friend Margaux and my nephew Andrew.

They indulged me and played a game of my storytelling role-playing game. Here are the characters they made up, which I doodled for them:

I also caught up with my old pal Beale, who parked that bike across the street from the cafe where we met, so I kept seeing it every time I looked out the window.

I’m happy to hear it’s serving him well, though.

So that was that, and I flew away…

It’s nice to be back here, spending time with the family and feathering the nest with Craig.

I’m deep into another book with work and loving it, but feeling guilty because Craig’s in a miserable limbo as he waits to hear about his work prospects.

Comics Club continues to be a real treat during my week. Last week we did an “Exquisite Corpse“-type exercise; I drew something completely random and crazy , and it was fun! It made me realize that I never draw just for fun anymore: everything has to turn out, because it begins its life with a purpose already in mind.

I so want to create work of my own to share with the world, but concerning myself with a purpose up-front kind of twists the whole exercise out of shape. As Oscar Wilde said, “Art is useless.“

So that’s something I’m thinking about. Meanwhile, though, I’ve got work to go and do!

You can’t really see it, but I heard scratching this morning and found a wee mouse peeking out of our humane trap.

We drove to Victoria Park and found a nice spot near a park building. I piled up some food, and Craig made a little nest of a toilet roll and leaves, then we let the mouse out. Unfortunately, it all happened so fast that I couldn’t get a picture: its little face poking out of the trap, black eyes bulging with fear, then it dashed away under the building.

Goodbye, friend 🙁

What is it about interacting with animals, eh? We often want more than they do — some kind of relationship or reciprocation, whereas they’re busy being scared or just surviving — but I just feel such love and care for them, and I believe that’s everyone’s native response until it’s stifled or forgotten.

If you’re one of my beloved Toronto friends and are reading this, let me just apologize now for hiding out in my hotel room instead of having called you.

I’m just in town for six days, and, unlike my socially gracious husband, I quickly burn out from running around trying to catch up with everybody I should. Even though I really do love my friends here a lot.

So, instead, I’m having gins-and-tonic (since some of the friends I did see on the weekend left a bottle here in my hotel room) and trying to finish some work, because this week will mostly be taken up with team meetings.

So, yes, I apologize for being a weird introvert-person who needs to recharge often.

It’s not that it wasn’t great to see my teammates at work today, because they’re a wonderful bunch. And it was a profound check-in to be back in the office, when the last time I was there I had my hands bound up like a T-rex.

At Comics Club last week, people were taken with the little watercolour pan I’d made for myself from a tiny slidey tin box. So this morning I made a few more to share. (Way too much work; I’m stopping at two.)

The colours are divided with box-board. So in making these, I reached under my desk for one of the many cereal boxes I keep for just such an occasion… and discovered something sad.

A wee dead mouse.

Is it you, Henry? I’m so sorry that you met such a frightening, lonely end.

I buried him beneath a tree in the back garden.

But here’s a twist in the plot: We’ve been putting out treats for Henry, and just about every night they’ve disappeared — including last night.

When I buried this poor wee fella, he was well dead — dried-out and smelly, his tail stiff as an awl. This could not have happened in the few hours since the bread crust disappeared last night.

So who is this? Is it Henry? If so, then I hope he at least got to enjoy some of the time since we saved him from the cold before meeting this unfortunate end.

Craig suggested that we put something out again tonight to see if it disappears. If so, I guess we have unwelcome guests, and it’s time to use that humane trap.

I was going to post this in response to a comment on Facebook, but, honestly, I just don’t want to get into this there.

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(In response to someone’s friend saying that their civil conversations about veganism have really sunk in for him — after I read another piece by someone condemning vegans who don’t go to protest marches.)

This is a much smarter “long game” than getting into the pissing contest of judging people for not being “vegan enough”. Ugh!

I understand being angry, but directing that anger back at the community is not helpful.

I just ate a delicious piece of vegan strawberry “cheesecake”. That’s a pretty winning way to introduce people to veganism.

Activism is important, but it’s the thin edge of the wedge. A vegan shouting at me for not being an activist just makes me want to leave Veganism(TM) behind. It’s a page from the Westboro Baptist school of marketing.

Peace and love are my jam — and are my work as a vegan, because, for me, that’s what veganism is about. That includes trying to create a space where the listener can experience and understand the peace and love that motivate compassion. If it’s anger, shaming, and judgment — well, I get why someone turns away from that, regardless of how “right” the speaker may be.

Nobody wants to experience themselves as wrong, so our job is to invite people to be part of something better and show them a vision of how they can create a part of that peaceful future right now.

In a confusing world, this one is very simple — unless we insist on turning it into yet another bit of partisan infighting horseshit.

I hadn’t intended it, but the treat I left Henry last night resulted in a trail of clues to where he’s hiding. Except it stops in the middle of the basement!