Sunday, October 22, 2023

Sunday Selections 3

Not much to produce here this week. It has been a wet, windy one apart from today where I had planned to go out but my body went on strike, particularly one leg which woke me up at 6 and now it's 10.30 and I'm so short on sleep this could be a deranged post. Push on if you dare.

I found enormous comfort in this needlepoint image this week. It really speaks to me for the soothing effect of knitting.

This is what our universal health care looks like.

I use these to sketch out knitting patterns

Postcards received from my beloveds during the past week (we all love postcards!)

And some animal stuff to make you smile/laugh.

Sunday, October 15, 2023

Sunday Selections

 I'm joining with Elephant's ChildRiver and others for Sunday Selections.


I took shots of the places around me - inside.

Upper community area which overlooks the lower community area.

Lower community area which is quite massive, our resident pianist is practising.

There are libraries in both community rooms.

A "burning bush" bright and smiling in the fog outside the community rooms. It's autumn here in Newfoundland.

My living room. Note windows have no drapes as nothing overlooks me, just the sea and the lake and Signal Hill in the distance.

Photo by Ray Mackey

Outside from where I live overlooking the "village within the city" of Quidi Vidi. Can't tell you how beautiful it is, particularly in the autumn.

I am shredding stuff like a mad thing. But I found this note to myself made a long time ago and I must start this practise again. My energy is really low in the past week or so, but there are such moments and I forget them in the fog of poor mes.

Sunday, October 08, 2023

Saturday/Sunday Selections.

I'm joining with Elephant's ChildRiver and others for Sunday Selections even though it's only /Saturday (early) here but yay, Australian time!

No theme just eclectic.

My blackboard in my office/bedroom, I usually put one word on there to keep me going for the week. As an elder I believe it is important not to go all geezerish and start off any sentence with "in my time" or "let me tell you that wasn't"...choose topic. So forward march.

One of my brothers gave me this for my birthday, it's married, via Bluetooth, to my phone and hence to my favourite radio stations (one particular fave is out of Ireland that plays all classical all the time) and the sound is truly superb. it's been playing solidly for a couple of months now and I havent had to recharge it.

I picked this commercial style shredder up for $15 from a sketchy looking fellah on the side of the road who sold it on Marketplace, used. I have a ton of files from my tax business to shred. it takes everything in its savage maw, staples included (important). I am thrilled with it. Already two full blue bags for recycling. Effortless. Better shredder than the one I left behind in my office in my former house.

A friend takes these incredible photos of birds. One of the newest arrivals to Newfoundland (climate change) happens to be the saw-whet owl (owl is my spirit animal) and he took this exquisite closeup last week. He says there are many of them here. Those eyes, yeah?

Photo credit Geoff Smith

And finally, slightly vulgar, but many of you will snort as I did when this was posted.

Wednesday, October 04, 2023

Stories I am told

Photo courtesy John Moore

I have one of those faces, the kind where a stranger will sit down and confide all kinds of personal events and occasions, happy and sad, broken hearts, personal history.

I make notes afterwards when something captures my attention.

Recently at a cafe, I was sitting harmlessly and writing in my journal when a middle-aged woman asked me could she sit down at my table as the place was packed.

In due time she said she could write a story about her sister so I politely cocked an eyebrow at her. I was taking a break as I only have so much energy in my day now. 

Her sister had always been trouble, since the day she was born, she ran away at fifteen and had a baby at sixteen that she gave up. Her father banned her from the house when she showed up one time, drunk and abusive. She would have been seventeen then, Anne, my temporary friend, told me. Her mother's heart was broken. Rosie went off again and they would hear from her now and again, looking for money. It was obvious she had a booze and drug problem. She was with a whole series of fellahs who abused her and, Anne suspected, pimped her out as she complained she couldn't work because of injuries.

Dad died and mom was left on her own even though Anne invited her to live with herself and family. They hadn't heard from Rosie in a long while when mom got cancer and lasted only a few months before succumbing.

Rosie showed up  year ago at her doorstep demanding her share of the estate. Anne refused to give it to her even though she had set her sister's portion aside in a trust account. She knew she would hasten the death of her sister who already looked wrecked and at least thirty years older than her age from hard living.

Surprisingly, Rosie accepted she wasn't going to get the money unless she sobered up and got clean. She next asked where their mother was buried.

A month after that, a cop showed up at Anne's door and asked her to come to the graveyard.

She did. And there by mom's grave was a small tent with the opening facing the grave and Rosie sitting inside talking away at it.

The cops had received many complaints about the "homeless old woman" occupying a gravesite who never stopped talking.

Surprisingly, Rosie was sober and coherent.

"I'm telling her everything," she said to Anne, "My whole life story, so she will understand why I didn't see her."

Anne had a brainwave.

"Come home with me so you can tell it to me every night," she said gently,"And I will type it up, and you can read it to her every day."

And slowly, with the cop's help, they gathered up the tent and the bits and pieces left of Rosie's life.

"And what a story she told me," Anne looked at me, tears glistening on her lashes, "It would make the very hairs stand on your head."

And she got up then and left without even a goodbye.