Monday, May 20, 2019

Blog Jam

In the "believe me you haven't lived until" department:

Walking along my apartment hallway I hear this tremendous crash coming from behind my closed door. I fish in my cart for my cellphone read to press 911. A break-in? A dementia person thinking it was her/his apartment? A bird crashing through a window screen? I open my door gingerly and was greeted with a sea of shattered mirror. When I say shattered I understate the condition of the floor. The large mirror was hung over my sink in the kitchen. I don't know how it fell off the wall as the hook it hung on is still intact as is the heavy twine fitted to last through an earthquake at the back of it. The whole kitchen floor, the vestibule, all the corners, under stuff, on top of shelves, you get the picture (ha!), is an attractive shimmering art installation.

I am about 1/2 way through cleaning it up, I had kept newspapers in a reading bin in the bathroom (you know what I mean, stuff that looks important but never gets read, ever)so wrapping all these effing slivers and slices and multiple shapes of mirror was a huge chore and I had to take a break and write about this to relax myself before I tackle it again. Before I burst into tears....and 7 years bad luck now, according to folklore? Shyte.

Which leads me to the whale today. After Book Club I went off to see the whale at Holyrood Beach, she came in after the herring followed by the coterie of a million birds feeding off her leftovers. This is remarkably early for here as we are still in Iceberg Season.


Photo is courtesy of Bruce McTavish who took a far better picture than I did. We all sat in our cars and watched this from the road. Incredible. I got out of my car and hit the boardwalk which runs parallel and guess what? The last time I walked there was with Ansa, we used to walk there all the time as she just loved it (and so did I) and I've just avoided it. And grief overwhelmed me. Here's her memorial picture. Boy I loved that furry girl so much. The grief is still alive in me. Does grief ever die?



32 comments:

  1. DANG! What a nasty job you were left with! Not 7 years bad luck, though, WWW - you didn't break the mirror. That's my interpretation of the folklore. :)

    What an experience - sight of the whale! Oh, and your sweetie Ansa! No, I don't think grief ever goes away, it gets less painful, but very, very gradually.

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    1. Oh good you clarified that mirror thing. Phew.

      The grief took me by surprise I was literally looking for her on the boardwalk. We both loved walking there for hours on end.

      We just never know the human condition, do we?

      XO
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  2. I agree with Twilight. The seven years of bad luck is only supposed to hit whomever breaks a mirror.
    Is that a normal sized seagull by those whale, man it's huge! I never ever saw a live whale, only porpoises, you're lucky, not unlucky!
    Grief dies very slowly, I suppose in 80 years it's all dead ... and by this I mean that grief live longer than we do.

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    1. No those are gannets Uglemor or what are called hagdowns here (they follow the whales) cormorants elsewhere.

      I'm so glad we got that mirror thing cleared up!

      XO
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    2. Gannets, never heard of those before. I had to look them up, your exoic everyday life once again ;) They are bigger than our standard seagulls (European herring gulls), but not massively so. It is still a big, big whale!

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    3. Yes it was huge Uglemor. Think of a bus. Gannets mate for life and millions nest on cliffs here every summer and people come from all over the world to see them. They are so attractive and wind their necks around each other as they look out for their solitary baby.

      XO
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  3. Bad luck? Good luck! You should be relieved that it just fell off the wall, and it wasn't a burglar, break-in, invading animal or something like that. Well, still ... quite a shock. And (having lost our dog only a month ago) my condolences for Ansa.

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    1. Ah thanks for turning it around. I finally have it all cleaned up, lots of newspaper and caution.

      Yes I so relate on your beloved four-footer too. They weave into our hearts and souls and never leave truly.

      XO
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  4. I am so sorry that your dog died. You obviously loved it dearly. And don't worry about the mirror. I have cracked glass ware repeatedly over the years. None the worse for wear.

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    1. Thank you Gigi, she was the best dog ever. The one as we say in doggie lover parlance. I've had many dear dogs but she was the best. A rescue and incredibly intelligent. We gave each other joy.

      XO
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  5. Oh, the grief never leaves. It shifts. It hides. It never leaves. Suddenly it springs up and grabs you (and maybe knocks the mirror off the wall!) just when you least expect it.

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  6. How well said, DKZ, thank you for that. This knocked me sideways today. I just wanted to howl. I felt a little insane tbh.

    XO
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  7. No, grief never dies, but it gets easier to bear as time passes.
    And 7 years’ bad luck can be avoided by not believing in superstition.

    I’d have been very apprehensive about opening my door after hearing such a crash through it. Night noises frighten me now, Millie can’t hear them and therefore doesn’t bark at them, but I jump up in my bed with a beating heart. Oh what it is to be old and alone!

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    1. I feel far more safe in my apartment Friko as there two alarm cords which alerts everyone as it flashes an orange light outside my apartment door. I doubted it was an intruder. I am easily startled, however, living alone. And I don't like that feeling.

      XO
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  8. Grief changes us. And lives with us forever. Sneaking up and fanging us from time to time. And she has sharp (and sometimes poisonous) claws and teeth.
    How I would love to see a whale.

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    1. We get many in here but usually early July. I sit and watch them all day. They are so mighty and majestic and travel such huge distances.

      That grief thing tho......I think it's gone and pooooooof.

      XO
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  9. If we counted them up, how many things we don't do for grief of the last time we did them...
    And good luck getting up that bazillion shards.

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    1. So true Joanne, I avoid our old places and then when I "accidentally" come across them I burst into tears. It happened one time in a town where my father was the town clerk and I remember me sitting on the steps as a 4 yo crying because I couldn't go to work with him. As clear as day.

      Grief is always a shock.

      XO
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  10. It doesn't sound like the mirror damaged anything as it fell, so that is some good luck. How wonderful to have whales close enough in to photograph. Your beloved Ansa lived to a good age and I am sure had a very happy life. Grief should reduce in time, but there are no rules.

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    1. No rules, you are right. Astonishingly nothing else broken in its mad dash for freedom off the wall.

      XO
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    2. mad dash for freedom off the wall.....made me grin... you have it ...a way with words that is so expressive.

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    3. Thank you Femme! In the midst of disaster we can sometimes find the humour.

      XO
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  11. The 7 years bad luck only happens if YOU break the mirror, and you didn't.
    Grief never dies, but it does tuck itself away after a while, sometimes a very long while, but places and events can open the door it is hiding behind. Ansa was so, so, beautiful.

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    1. Yes she was gorgeous. Such an intelligent rescue. It took her two years to trust me but boy she knew so many commands and I eventually could take her anywhere without a leash. I adored her. And she me.

      XO
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  12. I can just feel how much you and Ansa loved each other. So sad.

    Weird how the mirror fell off the wall despite the hook and twine being intact. We had something similar a few months ago - a double glazed window was suddenly unaccountably full of cracks and had to be replaced.

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    1. Grandgirl put it down to the vibrations off helicopters that fly overhead from the oilfields out on the ocean. I think she's right.

      I might have recovered better if I had another dog - pets are forbidden here but we have asked the board to reconsider the policy. I'd love another one, a rescue for sure, and small.

      XO
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  13. We seem to be in sync today! I tried to open the door of the fridge while talking to our maid when I knocked off one much valued magnet memento stuck on to the top door of the fridge. It fell down and broke into two pieces. I expect to get a mouthful later in the day from the LOH for being clumsy. Not so much for knocking the magnet off but, the ever present possibility of my hurting myself.

    You went on a nostalgia trip and I too did because I was interviewed over the phone by a reporter from the South of India who is writing an article on caregivers and how caregiving affects them. She had come to know of me from a blog post that I had written to a Caregivers blog some years ago. The interview brought back many memories and it is just the start. There will be an email interview as well before the article will be finalised. I will send a link to you when it appears in print.

    You remembered a dog. I got a new one. Just go over to my blog!

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    1. What happened to Chutki Ramana? I will visit you later as I have a few appointments to keep today.

      I assume the caregiver's interest was in the way you took care of your late father? I remember that so clearly as I was in awe of your tolerance for a hateful old man.

      Glad the magnet did not do too much damage. Neither did my mirror. Just to me in clearing it all up. Arduous.

      XO
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    2. My giving care to my father was after eight years of giving care to my late wife. This interview was on that exercise.

      Chutki is fine if somewhat testy to find another dog at home. In time, she will get used to it I suppose.

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    3. A lovely post about your new wee fourfooted friend :)

      XO
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  14. Last night there were six deer in our front yard, right up to the window. It wasn't until one entered my perennial bed that I knocked on the glass to scare them off, and went outside to yell "Get outta my flowers!"
    I said to Scott this morning that I'd taken a photo of a poster advertising blue heeler pups, as deer may ravage my flowers and his vegetables this summer if this past month's four-legged visitors is any indication, and with luck an outside dog would keep them away.
    He said "I don't know if I'm ready to get attached to another dog yet." It's been a year-and-a-half since our Sadie was shot after killing one of Scott's niece's alpacas. We only had Sadie for half a year or so.
    All this to say that your time with Ansa must make her going even more painful, still. A dog is a beautiful friend.
    -Kate

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  15. A dog is a perfect friend when you are so in synch with them Kate. Everyone who met her fell in love with her as she was so perfectly trained and obedient. An important factor in dog love as they really love obeying once they trust you are the lead dog and will look out for them.

    Yes those deer sound problematic, have you considered chicken wire and wee gates to the veggies and flowers?

    XO
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