Discover more from ☁️ Daydream Trash by Shannon Hemmett ☁️
03 Daydream Trash
Good morning beautiful people. How was your weekend? The clock says 11 but my body says it’s 10. I’ll continue to recalculate the time for a few days until my internal clock adjusts. Jay and I debate the usefulness of Daylight Savings and we decide that in our geo-location, it’s probably a good idea to maintain the tradition. An extra hour of darkness each day during the perpetual gloom of a Vancouver winter might be a bit much, even for the darkest hearts. Google, in all its infinite wisdom, tells us that Daylight Savings in Sweden is called ‘sommartid’ and I thought that was nice.
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Journalling is a long-held tradition in my family. My Mom and her sister both maintain daily journals (and have done so for 40+ years, maybe more), and my grandmother kept a daily journal for over 60 years before she passed away in her mid-90s. I’ve kept a daily writing habit with varying success. I admire my fam for showing up in their journals, every-damn-day. When Nana died, her journals were distributed among my Mom, her sister, and her brother, and now two-thirds of them reside in my safe keeping. When passing the books on to me, my Mom warned: “You may not like what you read sometimes, so just keep that in mind…”. I think I knew what she meant —you can’t be upset at someone for their honest impressions, or talking a little bit of shit now and then, if they give you an all access pass to the insides of their head for six decades. So we’ll cut Nana some slack.
I’ve looked through some of the journals with gentle curiosity, tiptoeing into my Nana’s thoughts. It felt a bit forbidden at first. As I read, themes appeared. My Nana loved the ocean, animals (esp. horses), and the great outdoors. Her and my Papa enjoyed road-tripping, and there are numerous poetic descriptions of Canada’s rocky coasts and untamed wilderness. The early journals detail her daily life, travels, camping, family visits, but the later ones take on a somber tone as my Papa’s health declined due to Alzheimer's. Although she came from a dead-serious generation of Scots, she had a wicked sense of humour which pokes through now and then too. I remember us cry-laughing at the kitchen table over some bizarre, morbid thing or a comedy of errors retold, seeming too absurd to be true. My Nana was a cool lady, and I love her for that.
Tonight, we have rehearsal for Leathers and ACTORS, which is always a blast. We’re busy preparing for our appearances at Dark Force Fest in New Jersey in 3 weeks time. We’re so excited to get back on the road after recharging over the winter months.
I’m not quite sure how to wrap these entries up in a neat and tidy way, so I will just say thanks again for being here. Your support means a lot and I hope the entries bring a little interest to your day. Until next time.