Limbo

I can't thank you guys enough for all the private messaging and comments during my recent bout of illness. 

What I find most beneficial are the affirming comments and emails. 

What  I find devastating (and interestingly none of these from fellow blog-mates but from long term friends) are messages lecturing me on my "poor choices" in not going to the hospital for a multiple day stay in isolation and denying my feelings on the matter and told to think only of my being less of a burden on my family. As if I am incapable of making carefully evaluated decisions on my own.

It's been a rough old time, guys. Not enough strength to write most of the time. And you know, a lack of interest in life and most of all participating in it.

I am back on my iron pills and the last few days have seen a small resurgence in my energy. I am awaiting news of a more planned approach to this multiple testing rather than the awful rush of the last which would have been a disaster. And not just for me but for my family.

Enough said about it all. I am back in the writing saddle so to speak and can hardly wait to get caught up your blogs.

I managed to get to my beloved beach with Daughter yesterday. We picked up some Mexican take out for a picnic and drank in the gorgeous air so much we forgot to take photos. It felt like the clouds of winter and Covid were lifting us onto a different plane which was affirmed later by zero new cases in the province.

With this first taste of spring at 6 degrees celsius, there were many like thinkers, hikers, babies, children and dogs on the strand and all the magnificent trails surrounding it.

I felt very much part of the land of the living and not of the dead.

When Friends are Fading.

I have a follow-up on Lana for those who might remember my five part post on a long time friendship when one descends into dementia, leaving the other holding the memories by themselves.

Lana is in frequent contact with me. Her here and now wisdom is still intact but her short term has just about vanished. I was alarmed the other night when Bell Telephone called me and said my friend was unable to punch in my numbers on her phone and asked for assistance. Oh dear. The call itself was also distressing in that she was looking at a slew of bills and not knowing what to do with them. Should she go to the bank? And then she asked for help. Could I find someone to take care of her bills?

I called an Ontario trustee I am familiar with but they couldn't help as her sons are powers of attorney. I stewed. And then came to a resolution and called one of her son's workplaces and he remembered me instantly (our families have been close) and he is very aware of what's going on with her and calls her four times a week and monitors the situation along with his brother. (She has no memory of these calls however, and told me no one bothers with her at all).

He also said her tenant had called and several who didn't want to be identified phoned in various stages of concern. He assured me he wouldn't breach my confidence with her. Her sons are in a dilemma as to what to do. Hire full time home care? He thinks her estate could handle it or a reverse mortgage. Anyway the long and the short of it is I am in complete relief and the burden of her calls and my concerns has lifted substantially. And we will keep each other in the loop of her condition as it inevitably worsens.

What a dreadful disease this is. It steals the whole person, their vibrancy, their memories, their friendships, their dreams. I've been up and close and personal with a few cases now and all of them were heartbreaking. Without exception.

I was out and about today in spite of some early pain. I needed to be by my ocean.So I took my lunch and a dark roast and headed up to Middle Cove.

I loved this sign in the middle of nowhere on the beach (only 2 other people there in the vast space). Social distancing in the ocean air. What they call an 'abundance of caution' out here and we are so grateful for it. There was an article on us, in The New York Times no less, as one of the safest places in the world. All down to this abundance of caution, even on deserted beaches.

I stopped twice on the way home.

Once by a stables with these gorgeous horses and riders galloping in the paddock but taking a photo seemed really instrusive on their chatter back and forth, so I didn't, much as I wanted to.

Just up from there I stopped at this beautiful church as the afternoon light was so perfect.

My Happy Place

Interesting day.

I was at a business meeting earlier where it was discussed that a property, which is being severely mismanaged by a bunch of yahoos (my private words) needs to be taken over and run properly. And I outrageously said: "You know what? This should be taken over by a bunch of women and run successfully!" And Lard Thunderin', didn't everyone (including males) vote all in favour. I tell you in all my born days this was a first. I should mention the above yahoos are all male and elderly and adverse to any type of innovation or heaven forbid technology. I am not an ageist by a long shot, but sometimes new female blood is needed. And these females are young and energetic.

I had packed my knitting. Mainly because I'm on this mad sock-knitting kick so decided after the meeting I would head off to my happy place, my beach, as the day was glorious.

So here it is in all its glory:

And here's my knitting bag and another sock on the go:

And yes, Gigi, I'm wearing my socks:

Sunshine on my feet as winter nudges her way onto our bones.

For Your Pleasure

In my Tao meditation today I was encouraged to evaluate a tiny piece of thread.

Consider how it started its life. In a seed, in a cotton field, think about who harvested that cotton, who spun it into cones or on to reels. Who packed it for shipping. Where it sat on a store shelf. Think of its incredible journey to get to my basket.

We can do this with everything I suppose, especially when the 9-5 life no longer beckons and there is time to contemplate.

Doesn't life go backwards? The time for contemplation should be in the working years. However, I do remember a magnifying glass and a grain of sand when I was a wee girl, marvelling at how much was in that speck, the glitter, the colours, the texture.

For your pleasure (and mine) the following:

The finished chair. My apartment is coming together with these added colours.

I started a shawl for Grandgirl in her favourite colours. But I was completely taken by the yarn as it sat expectantly in this precious yarn bowl.

And last but not least, a beautiful shot of cliffs and sea (remnants of a now sedated Michael from a distant shore) outside my favourite beach, Middle Cove.