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by Aleisha Hendry

I Believe You

I keep watching all the shit going on in the U.S. right now and I just want to throat punch someone.

The sheer number of people who are all for giving men a free pass for shit they did as teenagers is absolutely appalling.

The bullshit coming out of the U.S. over Brett Kavanaugh and his alleged assaults and inappropriate behaviour towards women in his younger days should literally bar him from sitting on the supreme court, or any court for that matter. I don’t understand how this is even a question. How can you trust the judgement of someone that apparently had no qualms about attempting to rape someone and laughed their ass off while doing it?

Wouldn’t you think that he’d have his own biases when judging cases like that? That he’d be more likely to side with the accused because he himself did things like that and clearly the victim is just making shit up because it’s not that big a deal?

This is sending a horrific message to young girls – if a guy takes his dick out and trys to shove it in your face, you should just, I dunno, laugh about it? Or if he holds you down and tries to put his dick inside you, you should just chalk it up to being a youthful indescretion? What the actual fuck?

And then hearing the goddamn president literally dismiss the accusations as an attempt to ruin the life of his personal pick for SCOTUS when he himself has been accused of sexual assault…

Jesus Fucking Christ.

Girls, I know it seems like no one cares about what happened to you. Hearing the people in power dismiss your feelings or call you a liar is disheartening. It feels like you should just give up and try to forget about it because what good will it do if no one believes you?

But there are people that believe you. I believe you. Please don’t give up or give in to dispair. There are people out there willing to help.

I believe Dr. Christine Blasey Ford. I believe survivors of sexual assault.

If you have been assaulted, please tell someone. Doesn’t matter who, just find someone you trust. If you feel like you can report it to the police, please do so. Those that would harm you need to be held accountable for their crimes.

It’s going to be an uphill battle, but it can be won.

I have to believe that.

-A.

by Aleisha Hendry

A Year of Yarn

According to Facebook Memories, it’s been just over a year since I picked up those crochet hooks at that Walmart in Montana and returned to Canada to root through that bin of yarn Mom had in her basement.

Oh what a year it’s been.

The whole reason I started crocheting was to stave off the likely inevitable osteoarthritis that runs in the hands of women in my family. Grandma has it pretty bad, and Mom’s got it started, so keeping the fingers limber and active seemed like a good idea.

Idle hands and all that.

We picked up a few different sized hooks and I pulled a bunch of yarn out. It turns out you can learn any damn thing by watching YouTube videos.

So I found a video for beginners and got started.

My first and second attempt. Good god these are awful.

I actually enjoy reptitive tasks; I find it meditative. It’s easier for me to think and I’ve come up with some of my most epic creative ideas while doing such repetitive tasks. Basic crochet is literally just repetition – row after row of the same motion for as long as you want.

Where has this been all my life?!

I started off easy – trying to make squares and maybe add a boarder – just trying to master the basic single crochet stitch.
I started gaining the confidence to try different stitches and patterns and my work started to get more and more esthetically pleasing. Hell, they were good enough that I started giving them away to friends.

At the same time I made hats and handwarmers and scarves, all fairly straightforward projects that were functional and could be worn and shown off.

The sheer number of hats and stuff I made over the winter, just to keep myself busy while sitting in the truck or the medic shack all day, was insane. Watch an instructional video a few times, get the pattern down pat, and go for it.

Then I got on a blanket kick and started doing infinite granny square blankets, which were a nice little project for sitting in the truck. They were square and large enough to cover one’s lap while reading on the couch or something.

And then I discovered amigurumi.

Making little animals and people and things that were small and cute was fun and fairly easy…once I got the whole magic ring down anyway.

I made cats and owls and octopi, I even found a pattern for Porgs! I love Porgs! You could crochet pretty much anything from nerd culture and it was amazing.

But I think I may have found my calling when I came across a patten for a spooky little Nightmare Before Christmas type doll. It had more pieces than anything I’d done before, but the stitches were basic so I bought the pattern and gave it a go.

This is the end result.

I want a kitty hat too, I should make one.

I look at this doll and I’m stunned that I actually made it. She tool three days and something like 15 hours, but it was so satisfying to finish, moreso than the other stuff I’d made.

The fact that I’ve gone from that first photo to the one above in a little over a year is pretty awesome, I think.

Looking forward to many more yarn years to come.

-A.

by Aleisha Hendry

Tell me a story…

So as I wrote in another post a while back, I’ve been working on my fiction writing skills.

After several attempts to turn words into coherent sentences, I finally got a short story written, revised, edited and submitted to a lit magazine contest.

Pulp Literature’s Hummingbird Flash Fiction contest was for stories under 1000 words and could be about pretty much anything. Coming off a decade in journalism where you write clear, concise, and to-the-point articles, writing a flash fiction story felt more natural than trying to world-build and extensive character development.

Is that a cop out? I dunno, perhaps.

So I hummed and hawed and questioned myself and doubted myself and let my anxiety run away with me for a bit before hitting ‘submit’ on the website.

And then it went to the back of my mind and I almost forgot about it.

In the meantime I worked on some other stories – I wrote three pages of a post-apocalyptic dystopian story that got wiped from my hard drive and started on a creative non-fiction piece, which is more in my wheelhouse – and just kept going.

Then I got an email one night saying my wee little story made the longlist for the contest. That means it was good enough to be considered for the top prize. That means it wasn’t terrible.

If that’s not pure validation I don’t know what is. Considering all I was expecting was a critique of the story, this was very exciting.

I didn’t make it any farther than the longlist, but I still feel pretty accomplished.

Now, I had a few people as to read to the story, because of course they do, why wouldn’t they? But I am reluctant to share the story at this point in time.

Why? Because it’s about a mass shooting in a grocery store.

You may have heard about a similar situation in the states at a Trader Joe’s in Los Angeles on July 21. This was a coincidence to the nth degree, though I suppose it was only a matter of time before mass shootings in the states went from schools, movie theatres, and churches to the local supermarket.

Another “why” folks may be asking is, why did I write about such a bleak subject? My short story ideas come from a list of nightmares I’ve had over the years. If the dream is vivid enough that I actually remember it, I usually write down the gist of what happened and use it as a story prompt. One of those was about hiding amongst the hot dogs while someone was holding shoppers hostage at some random store.

So, yeah. It would be a bit insensitive to post the story here where the public can see it. Maybe some day, but not right now.

For the time being, I’m just gonna keep plugging away on my little Chromebook and get some more of these ideas out of my head.

Wish me luck.

-A.

UPDATE: I received the critique on this story last night and it was positively glowing. A couple things to change, but beyond that all positive feedback. I really don’t suck after all!

by Aleisha Hendry

Something old, something new

Once upon a time, not really all that long ago, I wrote a weekly opinion column for a local newspaper. Facebook informed me today that the column would have been seven years old this week. That’s a long time to be writing a column.

I’ve missed giving hot takes on the happenings on the local, provincial, national, and international level, so I think it’s high time I got back in the writing saddle. Facebook posts and Twitter threads just aren’t the same.

I’m going to aim for a Friday publish day for an official “column” and just other random postings whenever it strikes my fancy. I’ve tried to make a go of blogs in the past, but it’s not really worked out. Fingers crossed I can keep this one going.

I likely won’t have a piece this Friday, but you never know. Dec. 22 for sure though.

And since the tagline says there will be more F-Bombs, I’ll end this intro post on this:

Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck!

God that feels good.

-A