Moving On

Rumination:

Do you write with your heart or with your head or a combination of both?

I tend to write from the heart.

Opinion pieces tend to be distancing I find and ring false and judgmental as the personal experience is absent.

And passion. Passion is absent from so many lives, isn't it? Being in this lovely village which is my complex I am puzzled as to why it is lacking in so many lives. Enthusiasm. Delight. Joy. Self-deprecation. We need lots more of these. How to stoke those internal fires?

Home:

My long awaited custom chair was finally delivered today. I had to send the incorrect one back 2 months ago as it rocked. This one is perfect. I test drove it like a child after the delivery men left. Now I'm finally ready to play with my space.

A perfect bathroom mirror I found. I'd been looking forever.

Travel:

5 more sleeps till I leave, but it's a busy 5 days, jammed with meetings and a paying tax project which finances part of my travel expenses.

My Cape Breton friend has planned a trip on our second day together to her local wharf to await the lobster boats coming in and then gorging ourselves silly in the wharf cafe on fresh lobster. I will photo this feast.

Travelling by car enables me to pack quite carelessly which I love.

Crafts:

"Not your Granny's dishcloth"

I made this dishcloth and I couldn't believe the response on FB. I've made quite a few more as so many want to buy them.

Plans

My father always maintained that for a happy life one needs something to look forward to. I'm a firm believer in a one day at a time philosophy but it lifts my spirits to plan travelling or a creative project.

A busy summer is lined up and I'm pretty happy about that. Enough breaks in between to take a breather.

Coming back from this I have Grandgirl coming for a week or so and staying with me.

Next on the agenda would be time spent with Daughter in August for my birthday, perhaps in Labrador and Red Bay, we've been tossing ideas around as her time is limited due to work.

Then in September another friend is coming from Ontario (her second visit) and we plan to visit Trinity, Fogo Island and Gros Morne, all of which I've been to before (in some cases more than once!) but she hasn't.

So all in all cruising through this summer sounds pretty exciting and eventful.

And yes, food is still peaceful, nutritious and appetizing. My clothes are looser and my energy has improved. My arm trouble lingers on so I am going to see an osteopath and I hope to get to the bottom of this. My speculation is boundless but pointless.

Two wee things I just knitted as a gift for a friend who adores both gingerbread men and books.

Downhill to the Barriers

My friend goes downhill rapidly. We talk. She wants me to come. So we can hold hands for a while. All expenses paid (she can afford it).

I didn't sleep last night. Tossing and turning. "I have to." "I can't." Nothing was clear. There are too many commitments here. Not least of which is to elder dog, Ansa, who is getting frailer by the day. The walk tonight was pitifully slow. She's gone a bit barky also because she's deaf and also "sees" danger in the shadows of trees. She will go down protecting me. I can't pass her over for care to anyone. For one, she can't jump into the car anymore plus she's too heavy to lift. And she's a real care now.

Next, I have a performance - advertised on teevee yet - this Saturday, sold out. Like, I don't show for this?

Then I have two separate PGs coming to stay next week.

I could go on, there's loads more but I'm boring myself to bits as it is. Someone reminded me of how sick I got the last time I was in Toronto and I positively dread the polluted air there. I have weak lungs (double pneumonia and pleurisy as a 9 year old)and last time was so bad I had to leave earlier than expected.

And guilt, we haven't talked guilt yet. I'd love to see her and there is such urgency to it as she tells me she's terrified her brain won't be there by the weekend even. I cry a lot of useless tears.

But, I can't surmount all these obstacles to get to her. And I'm old. Did I mention that? And, um, tired and not overly well myself. And still reeling from Helen's death. And Laura's death.

Apologies to faithful readers: I'll get around to reading your blogs one of these days. Promise.

Irony

It's odd this. But I have 3 places to stay in France. Free. And other distant places too, truth be known. And I can't afford the travel costs. Not just the airfare, though that would be a bit of a slice of money. But travelling around once I reach the destination. And food. And wee giftees. It all adds up. Until I have the bestseller. Ha.

Then another friend has decided to spend her fortune when she retires renting exotic places around the world for a month or two and then inviting her close friends to visit her and stay as long as they wanted. All they'd have to pay are their airfares and then head for Patagonia or Hong Kong or the Outer Hebrides where she'd be. Food and shelter provided. Again, I have to laugh. Airfares being a huge chunk of change for this pensioner.

A beloved niece sent me a lovely note about her upcoming wedding. Advance warning. A year in fact. To please be there. I'm going to try. I'd like to be there as I'm extremely fond of her. As I am of all my nieces.

The more I read of elders' writing (mainly solitary women, but some men) the more I realize how many of us are impoverished. Dreading expensive dental work or intensive house repairs or increases in rent or a new car. On the edge of financial catastrophe so to speak. Travel is in the class of bon-bon, a frippery.

I'm not complaining, in case you think I am. Not at all. I have my health, my writing and the odd wee fee for workshops, etc. And my knitting. And my photo-cards. And my books. And my darling Tigeen with a bonus of some rentals thrown my way.

And I buy the very best coffee beans. Always. One thing in my life is simply not negotiable.

Luxurious living is all in the mind.

And excellent coffee helps.

Lists

I see a meme being tossed around on FB of three things to be grateful for for 5 days and then roping in 3 more friends to do the same.

It's interesting reading these lists and I become mindful of all I have to be grateful for.

I'm making lists at the moment. A few lists.

List #1.

Packing: For my trip to the Oul Sod. Keeping it lighter, keeping it useful. I'm good at packing. I never, like some of my friends, pack anything I don't wear or use. Everything's interchangeable with another item. I gave up dresses and skirts a while back so clothes are simple. Dress pants, cargo pants, jeans. A few tops. A cardie. A rain jacket. A few pairs of socks. Undies. Scarves. I've always loved scarves, they can dress up sombre (blacks, neutrals) like nothing else. I struggled with the EReader again. For the last time. No. Back to paper. Pack 2 books, buy another or two when I'm there. Knitting? Maybe.

List #2.

The Dog List: For when I'm away: Ansa's foods, the way it's fixed in the morning, her baby aspirin for her arthritis, her carry-kit for the car (leash, water, flask, doggie bags), her commands (example: she only comes down the stairs with verbal permission, the poor baby could be stuck up there all day if not given permission to come down), etc.

List #3.

Gratitude. (1)So many well-wishers pouring forth lovely thoughts for my birthday yesterday. I was quite overwhelmed.
(2)A day with Daughter who arrived early with baked goodies and crops from her garden (she has this strange farming gene)with the gift of a day with her, wandering where the wind took us with brunch and a seafood dinner thrown into the mix. And a walk by the ocean afterwards.
(3)Lady Day (August 15th)in Newfoundland arrived two days ago. On the Newfoundland calendar this is the start of fall. Summer here is a quick blast of heat, incredible growth spurts in vegetation in a matter of weeks, and the longest autumn - often running 4 months. I just love it. My favourite season. For many reasons.
And Bonus:
(4) Each day I wake up to in reasonable and joyful good health.

Looking Forward

My father had this philosophy going. Always looking forward. Not to the point of destroying the day he was in but lightening his heart when the weather got bad, or someone died, or he felt lonesome.

I'm glad he shared it with me.

This year, in August, my family and I are exploring the Beara Peninsula, the land of my mother's people, the O'Sullivan Clan.

And we're staying here:

This is the music that will accompany us, The O'Sullivan March with the Chieftains:



Looking forward?

What do you think?

Weather, blah-blah.

~~~~~~Monochromatic, beautiful winter on the bay. Click to enbiggen~~~~~~

We're all in that weather obsessed mode, aren't we. My blog friend Friko wrote about the sloppiness of it all. At least for those of us in the northern hemisphere. My friends hanging off the southern half of ye old globe try not to gloat too much, they send me pictorial reminders of a non-white, non-wet landscape choking itself on lush vegetation.

Yeah, I can't make any plans without a massive consult with the weather network. Though I did manage a WHOLE day out yesterday and plan another one on Wednesday.

Weather talk is boring. I need to focus on my magnificent landscape, the fact that a plea for more firewood on FB (long, long story for another time)resulted in friends jumping in yet again with trucks and chainsaws, another play happening-nearly, and yes, thinking Toronto is a good idea, there's a ticket sale, yahoo!

Something to Look Forward To

Newest Ad from Newfoundland and Labrador Tourism.

My father would say this at the beginning of the year:

To make life worth living, you always have to have something to look forward to in the coming twelve months.

He was right.

Daughter and I had one of our marathon phone sessions today. No, we don't do Skype as that locks you in place. We do Bluetooth. Which means we can move around and cook, clean, knit, let the dog out and some important etceteras.

My birthday came up in conversation and she really wants to plan a vacation trip for it, one with Grandgirl involved. The three of us have travelled a lot together over the years. South Carolina, Mexico, Ireland, etc. So Daughter said there are three choices I think Mum. New York, Iceland or Labrador.

You can guess what I chose (and Daughter agreed). Yeah, Labrador, the Big Land. There are people I know who have taken their vacations for the last 36 years in Newfoundland and Labrador and who have yet to see all of it. Truly.

We're much the same, we think. It is very easy to get sidetracked here. Every bend on the road produces a new vista, another outport to explore and stay a wee while. This year we want to head to L'Anse aux Meadows to the Viking settlement and then hop the ferry to Labrador.

Yeah, something to look forward to. I'm excited already. We 3 generations on the hoof. Again.

Saturday Review

Ramana gave me this idea of having a summary of my week here. So I am trying it on for size.

And by the way, click to enbiggen any of the photos.

Grandgirl and I are just back from a few days in the Trinity Bight area and today were going to move on and stay further north but changed our minds. Our stay in Doran House was so perfect ("awesome!") that we knew anything else would be a let down so home we came and are planning a pyjama day tomorrow (reading, pizza, movies, games, making another Ipod playlist of a mash of our favourites).

First off is a picture through one of the windows of Doran House:



Then one of my favourites, a picture of Ansa on the cliff with Grandgirl below on the beach, embracing the water. She said she felt like she could take wing along with the birds at any moment and fly over it, it was all so beautiful.




Then we hiked up to the lighthouse at Trinity Bay, the view from there was astonishing, there are still remnants of the ramparts and the cannons used to defend this important harbour 400 years ago. And I bring you a picture of the lighthouse:



And this is a photo of the view from the lighthouse, doesn't it look like a magical town? (it is).




The weather was amazing for the time we were away and we drove back to more and more RFD and now, ha, that we're home, full RFD is upon us.

We ate last night at the Twine Loft (a special treat), the second sitting at 7.45 (how European of us!) and got dressed up to match the auspicious occasion. The food was amazing, a four course meal, she had the coq-a-vin entree and pronounced it a winner, I had the hazelnut encrusted salmon with scallopped potatoes (seriously scallopped in swiss cheese AND whipping cream, there should be a law against such offerings - how can one ever go back to plain?). A magnificent salad was served after the mains which enchanted Grandgirl, never having been introduced to this particular prandial routine before. The dessert was also crime laden. Barren Berries Pudding floating in rum sauce topped with whipped cream laced through with a reduction of raspberries. And oh yeah, carrot-orange soup as starter with just-out-of-the-oven bread. I don't know how we rolled ourselves to the car afterwards. And on top of that, our marvellous waitress and I became friends and exchanged contact info. She is heading off to Ireland soon on a life-dream project involving a spa (she's in her late fifties and now or never is upon her.) I told her my life dreams were happening rather late too, so she found it very encouraging.

I managed to finish a Richard B. Wright book which I loved, he's an author that I greatly admire. And I started a short story involving a guy just released from prison.

All in all a wonderful week. Grandgirl and I are having a glorious time, singing in the car to Lady Gaga AND Nina Simone, walking with the dog, getting caught up on all the doings of each others' lives. I feel so very lucky to have this gorgeous and intelligent young woman in my life.

Blog Jam

I was encouraged by my blog friend Viewpoint 2010 to investigate (once again)netbooks. When I had last done so, they underwhelmed me. Now I am completely impressed. I am actually test-driving it now, updating my blog.

I went a little higher in price than I intended mainly because my genius tech guy swears by Asus and the grandgirl had a major problem with Acer, which is $100 cheaper. The graphics quality on this is truly awesome for such a tiny unit. I also liked its keyboard, the keys are larger and sturdier than the Acer and the sound and video far superior. I was able to download Open Office no problem (thanks again, Veep!) and install a free 25MG Skydrive storage supplied by Microsoft. I am always amazed that not more users are aware of the best free cloud storage on the web. And Microsoft isn't going anywhere in the foreseeable future so the data is safe. See? Microsoft isn't totally awful. And this saves me a lot of flashdriving when I can access my files from anywhere, seamlessly. And for free.

This wee thing is light as a feather and I fought for and received quite a shocking discount on her and they also threw in a hot pink skin, a camera chip, a flash drive and set her up for free. It's only lately I've developed the skill of haggling. It would embarrass me even to start before. Now I'm older and tougher and shamefree. And also ready to walk away if the deal is not to my suiting. So hello little bargain Asus. We are going to be very good for each other.

Elsewhere, I had the shock of my life when I had an email from a very dear 82 year old friend today. Now, that was worth a phonecall to her. She has had a fairly tough past 15 years taking care of her husband who had Alzheimers and only began reading again this past winter after he died and proudly told me she had read 7 books so far. She also has embraced technology and is now on line. I am so inspired by elders like her who rise up again and learn and relearn new and old skills and live to tell the tale. They never shut the door on possibility as I have seen so many do.

And yes I'm packing, easy when one has empty bedrooms to lay out the potentials and evaluate carefully. I'm a good packer, rarely take more than I actually plan to wear and believe co-ordinates are the key along with lovely scarves. I am trying to decide on 'dress shoes' at the moment. I always wear the trainers and usually take sandals (Birkenstocks)for alternative footwear. I don't know why my only pair of high heels is calling me. Silence! you twisty, silly things, I say, but they don't listen.

And awful, awful, Ansa sees the suitcases and my clothes scattered about and is throwing up. It breaks my heart. How on earth does one explain one's short absence to a dog?

Blog Jam

I try and avoid rigidity, I've observed older people who fall into the trap of sticking to an agenda of their own choosing and not veering off that path come hell or high water.

This was reinforced by The Da.

A life of discipline and ritual, he would intone, makes for a happy life.

He would have had a lot of problems with my day today.

I had plans. Nothing engraved on the proverbial stone. I was going to head her on out, it being a gorgous day 'n all around 2-ish AFTER I had prepared my evening meal in the crock pot (slow cooker). This involved chopping and peeling and browning and spicing and firing in a can of tomato paste as per the recipes of my dear dead mother-in-law. She passed this major secret of her marvellous dinners on to me when I gave her her first grandchild.

She would stock up in the only place that carried tomato paste in those long departed days - Woodford Bourne in Cork City. Anyone else out there remember them, around for centuries with the exotic smells of the spices and teas and coffees that absolutely no one that I hung out with could afford?

Anyways, where was I? I had just about started on the slow dinner, next was jump in the shower and next was load dog and camera into the car and go to the beach for a brisk walk along by the powerful waves over at St. Vincent's and maybe drop in to friends along the way to scrounge a cuppa and then head on back here for dinner, all cooked and waiting like I had a personal chef or my mother working quietly behind the scenes of my life.

And my daughter calls. And we talk. And we talk. And we talk. For something like 5 hours. And the plans of the day get shelved.

And we sort out the world. And we discuss the books we share reading. And the grandgirl's being 16 today. And recipes. And life. And love. And travel.

And made plans for her to fly here early December and then drive back with me to Toronto where I will stay for a month to 6 weeks. This should be interesting as fate has thwarted our plans more than once. See here and here.

You know how it is. Day suddenly becomes a breathtaking sunset, and I took a picture of it facing east. Still unwashed in my PJs and surfacing outside, for the first time today, on my front deck. And my dinner will now be at midnight.

And who cares? A five hour conversation with a beloved child is worth more than gold.

You were wrong, Da. Again.

Irrational Fear

Every time I read about an aircrash lately, I've been nodding to myself. I don't know what's wrong with me.

I've planned to go to Ireland in September/October and something is holding me back from actually booking the trip. My intuition has always been of a pretty high quality. It's an instinct that's non-comparitive I suppose and completely subjective. I'll give you a few examples:

When I saw this house I'm living in now I knew it was mine even though the vendors reneged on the original deal. I went around for months talking about the house and was totally unsurprised when of their own volition, the vendors contacted me again five months later. Same with Cara in the last few days. I saw her picture and knew she was mine. I could go on, you get the drift.

On the last flight I was on less than a month ago I was in total discomfort at every bounce of turbulence, every landing and takeoff (six in total on a kind of milk run across Canada). I had the thought that I would never fly again if I got out of this one alive.

I've been in that territory before and attended some bio-feedback classes to get a handle on it way back in the eighties.

My logical self knows it's more dangerous to drive my car but also kicks in to tell me that in this age of economic freefall cutbacks are possibly happening in the area of airplane maintenance and shaved back pilot wages. And I'm not even thinking about the alcoholic drug addicts in the control towers.

I kick myself for being so irrational but this isn't helping. I'm stuck in Silly Fartdom.

PS Another update on another airline today: passengers trapped and screaming. Great!

Introducing Cara*

When I want something, watch out.

In spite of the 25 other buyers lined up for this baby,
In spite of no hitch yet on Strawbella,
In spite of the banks being closed today (gawdluvusall - it is Orange Day here in Newfoundland)and buddy needing cash for the sale.
In spite of the rain that keeps pouring down non-stop.

Solstice smiled on me and said "Cara shall be yours."

I convinced buddy to hitch it to his truck and follow me the 90KM to my place and park it and stabilize it and show me how to operate the hitch widget and then call his buddies who will install my hitch and hook up my electrical connections.

She's some beautiful, I'll tell ya. It was love at first sight. She has a private little washroom, a stove, a fridge, a table that seats four and she sleeps four, cosy-like. Maybe Grannymar can spare a few Toyboys as crew?


*Cara is short for caravan which is carabhan in Irish and is also the Irish for 'friend'.