I Want Your Brains! BraaAAAAAIIIIIIiinnsssss!

Here's the skinny: Trent had a brain child this spring, and now we're trying to get it working. Buckley's Music is donating a guitar to our store. We're going to hang it on the wall next to a donations box and invite customers to play it... for a small donation. Then we're going to match those donations, and the money will go to providing music lessons for kids whose families can't afford to pay for them on their own; the YWCA is going to help us select program participants. All is going well, except we can't think of a clever name for the program. "Music for Youth" is just so prosaic. Little help?

Just give me a basket and a... chainsaw?!

Wow. Trent and I just got back from a long weekend in New Brunswick. Aunt Maureen, Uncle Terry and Trent's cousin Jeff and his partner Melanie spoiled us for four fantastic days in Moncton and at the... "cottage" (think: log mansion) at Bass River. We had a fabulous time hanging out with family--including Mom & Dad Soholt (while poor Mom Esme got stuck petsitting--ha! that'll learn you to move to Nova Scotia!)--and doing various and sundry water sports. Stay tuned for pics.
One morning, we walked over to the "shed" (actually a massive garage containing, among other things, a righteous model train set and a vintage T-Bird), where Dad S and I noticed some raspberries growing next to the pond. Dd and Terry mentioned that there were more raspberries growing in the bush on the quad path.
"Oh, good," I said. "I'd like to go berry picking."
I asked Trent whether he wanted to join me. He said he'd rather watch paint dry.
As we walked back towards the house, I asked where the raspberries were. Terry said that they were near the back of the trail and that Trent could take me on the Rhino. (A Rhino is the unholy... and AWESOME spawn of a Jeep and a quad.) Before Trent could roll his eyes, I said, "No, no, just tell me where. I'll find it." After all, I'm a backwoods girl from way back.
"No, they're way back in there," Terry replied. "I'll have to show you."
I started to get uncomfortable. After all, I didn't want to make a big production of it. I just wanted to pck some raspberries!
We get back to the house and word gets out that I want to go berry picking. Immediately, Maureen goes hunting for a bucket. "No, no, no!" I cry. "I'll find a plastic bag or--something!" My vision of myself, tripping merrily through the forest, eating berries as I go is vanishing, morphing into this giant, embarassing production. I'm really uncomfortable now--everyone seems to be preparing for some sort of massive excursion. Maureen and Mom S are hunting for a berry receptacle, Trent and Dad S are prepping the quads, and Terry is out getting the chainsaw ready.
"Wait! What?! Chainsaw!" Good god! Now berry picking involves power tools?
"Yes, we'll need to clear the trail," Terry replies. "I'll take one Rhino on ahead and you and Trent can follow in the other."
I look guiltily at Bear. "We can watch paint dry later," I promise quietly. My bucolic vision of me as berry gatherer is dissolving into realities of enormous motorized bush vehicles, berry receptable quests and... chainsaws. And, next thing we know, when Trent isn't hauling freshly cut brush off the quad path, he's helping me AND Terry fill a bag with raspberries. Glancing at me reproachfully every few minutes.

Damn, those were good raspberries.

Just give me a crazyhuge straw hat to wear while I garden and I'm set!

Mom, Bear and I have been hard at work this month. We're finishing the deck and porch, and painting the house and garage... purple! Okay, technically, the house is a shade of deep blue, but to me it looks purple. How awesome is that, living in a purple house?
Those of you who have seen our HaliHouse know that it was formerly painted in tones that could only have been inspired by a detention centre of possibly a concentration camp: grey and black. Kind of dull in the summer, downright depressing in the winter. Now, it is a deep, vibrant shade of blue/purple, with white trim. (Or it's getting there, anyway.) It looks kind of sporty--like a team jersey or sailing clothes. I love it!

One neighbour's response to the new colour: "Purple! Looks great! I love it!"

Another neighbour's response: "You're not really painting it that colour, are you?"

Heh, heh heh.

My Imaginary Boyfriend...

Trent and I did another movie extra gig this week. (By the way, Diamond Grill is the perfect reading for that kind of day--the text is fragmented, your reading experience will be fragmented. Ideal!) It was actually kind of awful and boring and they wouldn't let us take breaks to eat, and they really, really rationed our pee breaks, and the movie (made-for-TV), Sticks and Stones, is probably going to be terrible. We spent the whole day booing an imaginay American national anthem at an imaginary Canadiens-Islanders hocke game (you guys remember the one). Mostly dreadful. Only, as we were filming the last scene, I look over to where the cameras and director are and someone looks familiar. Hot and familiar.

"Hey Trent, isn't that Christopher from Gilmore Girls?"
"I don't know. Looks like him."

Just then, Meagan the AD comes over. She's the same AD Trent worked with on Outlander. She goes straight to Trent. "I was looking for you!" she says. "Want to be in the shot?"

Of course he does. So he ends up right behind "Christopher" (whose name is actually David). Can you believe it? So much hotness in such a small space?

And, after the shoot, as we were waiting to sign out, I got my own close-up of Hot Christopher (sorry, I don't want to think of him as a real person) as he squeezes past me to get outside. And then, of course, I constructed an imaginary narrative in which he is now my boyfriend, and Trent is still my huz-bind, and everybody is totally, totally okay with that.

Yeah, He's Hot!

Apparently, Atlantic Talent Agency lets you vote on how hot their talent is!

Well.

You know who's hot? Trent's hot! Click here and here and tell them so! Just above the pictures are a bunch of little white or yellow oblong dots. Click on them are rate Bear's picture. Maybe he will get more auditions!