Day 45

Objet du Jour - old castiron railway clock in my office, it follows me around, loses time unexpectedly but responds well to TLC

I went through the email inbox this morning and answered everything I had been throwing on the long finger as "tomorrow" or "when life gets more interesting."

It is not even 11.30 yet but I was up at 6.30.

I find time is truly flying. I judge it by when I feel my weekly pill boxes. Yes, 2 large ones. Lots of pills. And as I was filling them today, Saturday, which is the day for filling, I thought: didn't I fill these just yesterday? Well no. The week slid out from under me. Also my mornings warp speed by. I think it is 8 but often it is closer to 10.

I'm reading this, sent by Niece and totally enjoying:

I'm playing Enya, it's that kind of morning. We've had a last outburst of snow last night. Enya always reminds me of spring. A long playlist. Sample:


I wrote a poem this morning. There's a poetry contest on CBC, deadline May 31st. I always hand write poems first. I like the sound of the pen on the page and how the poem can evolve as I read it and stroke and amend for clarity. Poems are succint. This one was complex and startling and I hesitate to share it but maybe I will eventually.

We've had no new cases here for 7 days now. So maybe, just maybe?

I hope you're all doing well out there.

Your Thoughts on the Year of the Plague.

I've been asked to do a radio interview on the effects on seniors/elders in the time of Covid 19.

Most of mine are positive as I do love my own company and my own activities and am not one for small talk and fluffy social gatherings that involve bingo and cards and darts, etc.

The down thoughts are as follows:

Not seeing my daughter as much as I normally do. Especially on Saturday which was her birthday.

Not seeing my niece and her little ones.

I miss going out for coffee with friends.

I miss meals out.

I miss theatre and other live cultural events.

I dislike the hit or miss quality of my grocery deliveries.

I fret about the cavalier and careless visitors without masks or gloves entering my building, cleverly evading our superintendent who is trying to police the building from such violations.

On the other hand, on the weekend, I watched a large family of young adults and children performing a dance in the front lawn of my building all wearing masks and gloves to entertain a grandparent watching from her window.

I also think (but not depressively I hasten to add) - is this all there is? Are these my final days on planet earth? What happens if people start dying in my building?

And large thoughts: what happens if there is an entire economic collapse. How will elders survive without pensions or savings and in possible ill health?

Have at it.

Notes from the Year of the Plague

It truly is not a poor existence.

I get to play indoors.
I get to not have to engage with the covidiots roaming freely and laughing at the rest of us.
I realize my privilege in having groceries and medications delivered.
I get to choose who to respond to in both my messages and texts and phonecalls.
I have all the time in the world to watch a series on a streaming service.
I can read all day if I want.
I have the luxury of designing a new blanket and surveying my yarn stash for colours and quality.
I can play a playlist from start to finish. Mozart, Beethoven, The Chieftains, Enya, Peter Paul and Mary, et al, et al.
I get to watch the birds nesting and hear their calls to each other.
I get to play Lexulous with those with whom I've been playing for countless years.
I get to slow-read newspapers
I get to kick off misbehaving members from my two FB groups (I know, a bit petty there but oh so satisfying)
I get to buy an expensive necessary gift for Daughter on line for her birthday tomorrow. After researching reviews, etc. Coz I've saved money on gas and going out, etc. She will be thrilled but not saying anything about it here as she may read this blog post.
I get loads of time to respond to so many interesting requests like a youth group hooking up with SOS in any way we deem helpful once this plague is over. A couple are writing a book on non-state terrorism and asked me assist with material I have collected over the years. And on.

So some pics:

My Easter dinner was dropped off safely by Nephew. I had 4 meals out of it.

Writing away, I was struck by this, we have loads of opportunities here, right?

Covid-19 (Day 31 of Self-Isolation)

Our prime minister, Justin Trudeau. And this is how I feel today.

The thing about being an elder is one can't let one's honest feelings out, right?

We're supposed to be strong and wise with the mellow of our years wearing a lean on me countenance at all times.

But that inner four year old resides within. And boy does she come out now and again. The impatience, the judgement, the no-one cares.

Today is such a day.

So I am throwing it out there. Easter Sunday.

Easter Sunday is the old pagan feast of Oestra, honouring Ishtar, the goddess of fertility and sex. My childhood religion, long thrown to the curb by moi, caught the fertility of the Oestra part but missed out completely on the sex unless it was their evil preaching hypocritical representatives stealing the spirits of innocent children, but I digress.

I am aware my world has completely shrunk, not that it was very large before, but now it is minuscule so I tend to obsess on unimportant stuff. Like tasks to be completed but then neglected. So I need to carve off some unpleasant wee tasks and just do them.

Many out here on the Edge are not gifted with a grasp of the seriousness of this pandemic and since their only hobby may be shopping and wandering aimlessly, indulge in that to the jeopardy of everyone else. I've been offered take out ("like a burger?"), etc, from these happy wanderers, oblivious to their own behaviours and its effect on their neighbours. They get very upset if questioned on how they are picking up such foods and I feel foolish for having prepped little care packages for them under the delusion of their following the isolating rules along with me. One took my gift of a hand knitted mask (not transmission approved, I view it merely as a warning to stay the eff away from me if I have to go in the halls for laundry or pickup) as permission to shop freely now.

So my isolation leads to despair and feeling quite solitary in my persistence of paying attention to all recommendations and wishing there were some real enforcement of them. I honestly believe we ain't seen nothing yet in the spread of this nightmare.
(
Pretty hand knitted masks, (more material can be inserted in the inside pocket). They are merely a signal and protection of others from one's sneezes, etc., but most of all a reminder not to touch our faces.

May the goddess, Ishtar, be good to all of you today.

Covid-19 (Day 29 of self-isolation)

Objet du Jour - a shawl I completed in about 40 shades of violet. I left it on my couch as I like looking at it and can hardly wait to waltz about outside in it.

There's a form of routine to my days, it's loose but there.

So here it is.

I get up at my usual time and make my breakfast (always a frightful bore - a large pot of dark roast - freshly ground beans, one egg and some healthy cereal with homemade yogurt and fresh or canned fruit) and well, 16 pills to start my day. All for kidney and heart and blood pressure function along with some D drops, some complex B and a baby aspirin (they don't call them that anymore right?)

I read my latest novel while I eat, a habit I've practiced for years except in my B&B days when I had to serve my guests. Afterwards it's Tao meditation time (I light a small candle) and the gathering of my self. I plan my meals for the day then so when I get involved in other stuff I know what I'm eating. I jot notes on whatever I'm writing.

Every morning, I email my small family (we have a group chat) a good morning wish and maybe a song or a positive thought. Today it was gratitude for their love for me and mine for them evidenced by a huge care package dropped off by my nephew last night which made me cry. Niece had put it together. I saw him through the heavy glass doors of my building and it felt so lonely and surreal as we waved at each other but this is much worse for them as he hasn't hugged his wife or his children in 4 weeks as he works in an environment that is high risk.

Then I check the newspapers - all digitally. I post relevant news items on the Covid-19 site I founded. And read comments and moderate and kick off misbehaving members with their own hateful agendas. Then I write for a while, or I knit. Or blog. Or a mix of everything. If I attend a Zoom meeting I knit which is a bonus.

I am never bored. I feel enormously free to do stuff now without the pressure of other stuff, if you know what I mean. My meds and groveries are delivered, I can PJ myself all day if I want. I don't have to interact with small talk ever (it drives me bats, call me deranged, I truly have to scrabble around in my brain to find bland sentences to volley back at the ones that are thrown at me).

Here are Canadian woman physicians singing one of my favourite songs of all time (originally written and sung by the Rankin Family).

Have a listen. Try not to let a tear leak. But ah go on - do, it's good for you. You don't have to be tough all the time.

Covid-19 (Day 25 of self-isolation)

Objet due jour - non stop blooming since January in my kitchen.

Time ran out from under me. Not all of it good. I'm sure many of you out there are having the same doldrums I am, days of it at times. Akin to despair. For who is cheerful and optimistic all of the time?

Not least of my frustration and well, yes, rage, was directed at a bunch of communities/towns and their leaders who broke with all Health Service directives and had a huge gathering and lighting of a tree to honour "front line workers" some of whom attended this incredible breach of safety. Not to mention setting a terrible example for youth. Daughter lives in the midst of this on a front line job with a compromised health factor to begin with and I was horrified. And helpless. When we protested along with a few valued friends, the pitchforks came out in full force and we were castigated for spoiling the fun and not understanding the "community spirit" but denigrating it. And should hitch up our wagons and get out of Dodge

No more will I say as I really don't want to relive this appalling episode. I could go on for a good long rant here but let's move on.

I started another novel and actually wrote 4,000 words yesterday. I had done a bare outline of this on my blog years ago and it has taken on an expanded life now and based on my own life. Well so much writing is based on our own lives, right? Some aspects of our own truth and reality. This book is one of the closest and it takes me right out of myself.

I read this somewhere else and wrote it down to inspire me.

"Someone has to succeed and there's no reason it shouldn't be me!"

Words to live by. Whatever that success could mean. Nothing to do with money or fame. Sometimes I am successful just making my own yogurt or gathering the ingredients for a nourishing soup.

I need to up the ante on this blog game. Sorry for the delays. Sometimes I can't breathe out the words or the frustration or the despair or even the smiles. But today the sun is out, and I am back in the saddle and groceries will be delivered today.

How are you all doing?

Covid-19 (Day 16 of Self-Isolation)

In the year of the Plague it's all fine and dandy for a while and then cranky sets in. I'm trying to drag myself out of it. Irritated with myself - but not with others who are valiantly doing their very best - as we all are. Counting the blessings ain't working today. Most days, well yes. I'm not perfect (surprise, surprise).

I believe in the concept of Gaia. And have for a very long time. The hypothesis is explained quite well here, James Lovelock, in the sixties wrote extensively about it.

Here's a good summary:

The Gaia theory posits that the Earth is a self-regulating complex system involving the biosphere, the atmosphere,
the hydrospheres and the pedosphere, tightly coupled as an evolving system. The theory sustains that this system as a
whole, called Gaia, seeks a physical and chemical environment optimal for contemporary life.[1]
Gaia evolves through a cybernetic feedback system operated unconsciously by the biota, leading to broad
stabilization of the conditions of habitability in a full homeostasis. Many processes in the Earth's surface essential for
the conditions of life depend on the interaction of living forms, especially microorganisms, with inorganic elements.
These processes establish a global control system that regulates Earth's surface temperature, atmosphere composition
and ocean salinity, powered by the global thermodynamic desequilibrium state of the Earth system.[2]
The existence of a planetary homeostasis influenced by living forms had been observed previously in the field of
biogeochemistry, and it is being investigated also in other fields like Earth system science. The originality of the
Gaia theory relies on the assessment that such homeostatic balance is actively pursued with the goal of keeping the
optimal conditions for life, even when terrestrial or external events menace them

I've often been labelled a crackpot for believing this planet is a self-healing organism, wondrous in its capacity to adjust and correct and attempt now and again to throw us parasites off into kingdom come in a desperate effort to revert to its natural balance.

And now here we are, a world slowly falling silent. Skies clean, oceans breathing. Factories ceasing to belch. Gas fumes not spewing from silent cars. Everyone looking at larders, looking at minimums, decrying excess. Getting comfortable (or not) with their own vibrations.

Taking time to think.
To ponder individual journeys to this point.

This crackpot apologizes to Gaia every morning in meditation.

We have dug deeply into her core, she is bruised and bleeding but her weapons are far, far mightier than ours.

She will help us huddled masses to heal.

If we listen to her.

Covid-19 (Day 11 of Self-Isolation)

Sorry for the gap. A wee bit overwhelmed with the Covid-19 site and my emotions too of course. Two of my moderators stress-quit, I took a short break. It is difficult to process all the news reports every day and realize that most countries are so far behind the ball that it is enormously distressing anticipating the rising toll of deaths. Our island didn't shut down as most wanted but put people rolling in from sunnier climes (we call them "snowbirds" here) on an honest self-isolation and you can guess the rest. Strolling into grocery stores and coffee shops and hugging neighbours. Not understanding or not caring what social distancing is or quarantine for that matter. I would have incarcerated them for 14 days. Without exemption. But that's just me. Knowing enough about contagion to terrify me.

Objet du Jour - an owl full of pencils. Owls are my spirit animal and I have many, many owls gifted to me over the years.


We are now up to 24 cases on the island. People from abroad infecting mourners at funeral homes, etc. So we're not on the ball at all.

I am keeping busy with Zoom meetings and modified exercise and my doc booked a call with me today at 3.45pm. That's socialist health care, folks.

The world is changing so rapidly and I read a marvelous article today on how the whole global economy will morph and change as a result. All is not lost. As long as we take every precaution to protect ourselves and those we love.

Here is the article

How are you all doing?

Covid-19 Day 6 of self-isolation

Objet du jour = leftover yarn balls, bowl hand carved by my last gentleman caller a few years back. Signed and numbered.


@@Received a notice under the door that the building is in lockdown so it is most terribly quiet. The library and community rooms are off limits and no visitors allowed. I feel safer and am very glad they are finally doing something though it may be too late with so many wandering willy-nilly all over the city, caring for grandchildren and running to Costco.

@@I can't believe how busy I am. It took me a while to set up Zoom for meetings. Great when it works but because everyone here is just about remote working now the drain on the system means it gets a bit non-buffery which can be irritating. Also busy monitoring items for the Covid-19 site but I have 4 moderators/admins now and that helps a lot.

@@I am working on a collection for another book called "Elder Reflections" which will incorporate life stories of people over 65 with a weekend workshop planned for the early fall to finalize. And hopefully publication before Christmas.

@@I heard from three of my four brothers today and I am so grateful for their reaching out. I am again reminded that when the world seems so perilously dangerous, we have all the time in the world to type loving letters and emails and texts and make phonecalls and have have zoom meetings and start new rituals.

@@I was saving a huge book, Pachinko, that grandgirl gave me for Solstice (we all exchange books at Solstice). I started it this morning. Oh the wonders of a beautiful book!

@@So how's it all going out there? I do read your blogs but time constraints are rough on commenting and also on responding on mine. I will get there........

Covid-19 (Day 5 of self-isolation)

Objet du jour - a little stand I have beside my PC with current mail or favourite pieces, right now one is a Maud Lewis postcard created by my daughter, the other is a note from one of my favourite bloggers down in Oklahoma. The message is of peace in our world and hearts and bodies.

Much more activity on the home front now. And by home front of course I mean my home. I did finish reading a book but got very involved in on line meetings and phone calls and of course monitoring our Covid-19 website. Extraordinary how that can eat into the day. I forgot to have lunch.

I placed my first grocery order from a local merchant who is delivering. It will be dropped outside my apartment door and I will wash hands and wear rubber gloves when I move it inside. And then wash my hands again after I handle it. And then wait a while before opening it. Not sure what protocols are during deliveries for this type of service. I will not face to face with him or her.

I have to say our PM is very on top of things every day. His wife is sick with Covid-19 and he must be worried but he's out there positioning himself as far as he can from the media to keep us informed.

It looks like it's getting worse here. I sure hope not but stats don't lie.

@@ Odd thoughts - why is the history of the world mainly written by men? What have we all missed of women's stories and doings? What were their thoughts, their inventions, their courage and bravery?

Covid-19 {Day 4 of self-isolation)

Objet du jour - my ginormous button jar - some of these are Granny's, some are Mum's. They follow me everywhere.

The website I started on FB is keeping me busy - you'd be surprised at how much time monitoring takes as we aim to keep it non-political and secular. Thoughts and prayers don't cut it. Science might though, n'est pas? One guy started threatening me last night when I removed him from the site, found my email, etc. etc. Thus proving over and over again how inappropriate he was. I threatened police on him for this harassment. And as I live in a building I feel relatively safe. In a house, not so much.

I am enjoying the isolation so far. I find I have more time for music, more time for emails, a kind of much laid back approach to life.

Worry underlines everything though. I have to practice a form of mindful meditation when I go to bed as my heart is palpitating so badly. The stress of the day, I think being on social media and reading so much on this virus contributes to this. Many of my friends are still free-ranging and it worries me. They can't grasp the contagion side of this. As in they might very well be infected already and it will be the 11.5 days statistically before they display symptoms.I am sure I am viewed as a kind of crackpot for pulling away so early. I view myself as a crackpot for not pulling away sooner than that. Every little pain or discomfort in my head I go: oh here it is.

Other items:
@@Free deliveries of groceries here for seniors and disabled. Nice touch.

@@I'm sticking to my routines even more closely: healthy meals, dressing in the morning, getting up at the usual time, Tao meditation, some mild exercise and washing dishes every night.

@@Wondering if I could go outside at midnight and do a bit of walking in the fresh air. Some are doing this.

@@In touch with other self-isolators and corresponding via email as I find my android is straining my eyes and I prefer being on my desktop.

@@I have clean laundry for about a month so not worried on that score.

@@Strange new world indeed and getting stranger by the minute.

Corvid-19 (Day 3 of self-isolation)

Way back in the summer of 1956 my parents took the remarkable step of isolating all 5 (we were eventually 6) of their children on an island off the coast of West Cork.

For the entire summer.

There was an epidemic of polio in 1956 and they took the preventive strategy of isolating their children from it. Self isolating in other words before it was too late.

This island was primitive, no running water, no toilets, no electricity. And we had to share a very small cabin with another family with 5 children who had taken the same precautions.

But we managed. We roamed the island, played cricket (a lot) and obscure ball games that still come back to me, read every book and piece of paper we found and wondered why our parents were reacting so strongly to something quite vague and invisible. We were 4 to a bed - tops and tails, youngest sleeping with the parents.and meals were in shifts for 14 people, young kids first then the older children and adults. Simple food from local farmers, milk picked up at milking time along with the eggs. We played indoor games when it rained and were marched off to the cliffs to cool off if we got petulant and truculent.

"You're not the only one feeling like this, we all have to get along or none of us do."

Close quarters alright.

And only in hindsight do I thank my parents, for when we finally got back to the city we saw how other children had been affected with this disease. We saw leg braces while many were in iron lungs in the hospitals, permanently crippled.

Mum and dad struck a brave, preemptive strike for the safety of their children, at who knows what cost - 4 parents, 10 children in a tiny, isolated cottage, dear gawd - but we were so very, very fortunate in their concern and love.

And a part of my heart has always remained there. We were right on this beach, the scene of daily cricket (called rounders) and all the swimming we could handle. You can actually see the rusty red roof of the cabin (long in disuse now) just up from the strand.

Covid-19

I realize I haven't been active on my blog or on yours for that matter for about a week now. I was busy with the usual, medical stuff and then Covid-19 got my attention as so many here (including those that should know better - government and health care) on this island were being totally cavalier as to the huge tsunami coming our way. Being elderly and vulnerable I thought to form a Facebook group which is now growing exponentially with global and local stats and articles from all over, particularly Italy, which is one of the canaries in the coal mine so to speak. And of course advisories and personal experiences and recommendations.

For now I am self-isolating but have shopped essentials and as I never in my life have been bored, enough knitting and reading and DVDs and streaming services to make it all pleasurable.

We don't have a case here yet but rumours abound from local people who attended a resources conference in Toronto which now has victims. Along with many returning from sunnier climes where pandemic cases exist.

I think we all fell down when Sophie Gregoire, our Prime Minister's (Justin Trudeau) spouse, came down with it.

If you need a link to my FB Covid page, just fire me an email (wisewebwomanatgmaildotcom) and I will send it to you. As this blog is anonymous, for many reasons, I can't link here.

I had a really good day yesterday(my last self-declared free ranging day for a while) and met with some good friends and essential-shopped and exhaustion seemed a huge distance away. I really treasure those special days as they are rare. A day at a time is how I am living now.

How are you all out there in this new land of Covid-19? Any tips or safety measures or changes or are you feeling safe and not vulnerable and confident in your country's management of this enormous threat?

Friday Fumbles

I was at my second consultant examination this week. Two separate days. Both taking place in the Health Science Centre which is a rambling spreading behemoth of recent design. Poor signage, endless walking, limited parking, limited wheelchairs. In other words incredibly stressful even if you're young and active like Niece and Daughter, but beyond the pale for seniors like me with physical challenges.

So I haul along my friend for these multitude of appointments and insist on paying her for her services as it is a huge chunk of time (often 3 hours for a 10 minute appointment) out of her life and she has to play hunt the parking spot and hunt the wheelchair as, seriously, the walking through the sprawl has to be seen to be believed and impossible for me and George, my cane, to manage.

So it was there, as I was finally in the waiting room, I said to her: "Why in the name of the goddess am I putting myself through all these consults and tests and evaluations? I am completely stressed out and hello quality of life?"

Now I hasten to add cancer is not on anyone's radar, so I am free to say that. Cancer would be another story entirely.

So I saw the new consult, who is added to the team of my healthcare. Which I am so grateful for and all effing free (sorry USA). He is a surgeon charged with managing my anemia. I liked him immediately.

I told him about my conversation in the waiting room and he then proceeded to review what he would have to do to my body to find the causes of this failing blood and tiredness issue.

Dear gawd, I said to him:

"Lights down the stomach, lights up the bowels and like you mention, odds of nicking something, slim though they are. I will be 77 in August. I am stressed just sitting in your waiting room and evaluating all these appointments and my life taken over by monthly visits to each of my team not to mention blood draws and lung xrays. And I beg the question why? What is it doing for me in the long run?"

"You know," he responded, "I can't advise you on this decision, only you can do that. But I can tell you I hear you. And if I was facing 77 I would want to enjoy myself too and not have to worry about procedures like these. I'll let your GP know what we talked about. And try and eat really healthily. It might improve your blood readings, they are pretty dismal."

So there you have it. And I wonder if this is the path I need to take. Disconnect from the medical specialist team, see my GP once a month and enjoy what's left of my life. Apart from routine maintenance and taking my daily truckload of pills. I'm sticking with the beta blockers. I seem to have crossed the hurdle of depression and flatlining. And my blood pressure is in the normal range after so many years of elevated. Wowser.

Monday Meanderings

We had a bit of a melt after the last blizzard and then, wait for it, another blizzard last night. Herewith a pic to give you an idea of the height:

I haven't checked my car yet. I am dreading to do so. Sometimes I get help to clean it off, sometimes I struggle with engine running to warm the car enough to make it easier to brush.
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We are working away on the next step to be taken with Support Our Seniors. We finalized a letter to the Prime Minister in a last ditch appeal and are scheduling a series of events to draw attention to the ongoing issue of Senior Poverty in Canada, particularly with regard to women.

We are planning a cross Canada protest, a really serious one, and would like any ideas you out there might have to make this effective. We were thinking to rent a bus and also wheelchairs, etc. for the handicapped among us and blocking a major thoroughfare with signage, etc. We are willing to be jailed which would get the poverty plight massive media attention - jailing senior handicapped elderly women for civil disobedience in protesting their abysmal living so far below the official poverty line? Hello?

Something like this (stock photo). Imagine a row of wheelchairs and zimmer frames blocking a main road?

Blog Jam

I am forcing myself to not give in to exhaustion today for it is stealing my life away. These beta blockers! But enough of that. I just put on the Brandenburg Concertos and have celebrated the fact that much reading has taken place so far this year.

I was quite taken with May Sarton's "The Reckoning" which is about a 60 year old woman finding she has terminal cancer. And has to prioritize the life business of the few months which are left to her.

Some rather wonderful lines:

"Her attachments now are only to those who serve her". When she realizes she doesn't have the energy for family drama or for those fluttering around her or taking her much needed energy.

"The dead are not asleep...for sleep is the domain of the living."

And how gorgeous is this:

"It was pure bliss to stretch out on the sofa then with a Haydn quartet pouring its vitality into her like wine."

"Little by little, we are more peopled by the dead."

It was a slow and wonderful read and I so enjoyed her wanting to be solitary and "desiring a lot of time to think".

I have lent it to Daughter but once she brings it back I would be more than willing to send it to one of you out there. It truly is a marvelous read (published in 1979) and way ahead of its time in many of its concepts. I will hold a raffle if there are a few requests.

As the Lodge Lurches
A rather lovely gentleman, Bill, was taken quite quickly. He was 81 and when I did my laundry on Sunday mornings would come up to the second floor community room (it's a gorgeous gallery overlooking the main community room and outside gardens and golf course) and sit there and chat to me as I went back and forth. I was surprised he was 81 as he had the energy and vigour of someone much younger. He was very good to our common cleaning lady and helped her with her cars and hospital visits. He just had a knee replacement which was followed quickly with his ulcer acting up. That turned out to be terminal stomach cancer and he died within a week of being in palliative care. So 10 days between diagnosis and death. It is such a shame his cancer wasn't "caught" before his extremely painful (and how unnecessary!) knee replacement.
Photos!
This is the outside wee area of my apartment. The artwork on the walls is mine. Instead of wreaths on my door I have yarn and needles. The two chairs are in one of the many such nooks and cubbies around the building for private talks or just sitting amongst the fine plants.

One Twist Away

I disabled myself just about completely during the past week. I was behaving like the flexible 21 year old I used to be way back in the last century. Throwing a leg on a bench and reaching for my scarf at the same time.

I know I don't have to supply you with all the grim details. Suffice to say is, in spite of fiction writers, there was no sound just a horrible sharp discomfort which worsened. And worsened. To the point of, you know, squealing every time I moved.

I did not look as good as the picture on the left side here...Crab was the position I favoured and even then it was accompanied by a symphony of different sounds I didn't believe I was capable of anymore.

I doused myself liberally in Tylenol 3s, Voltrane and CBD oil which took the peak edge off but on the whole, exhaustion took me over quite frequently and a fetal position seemed to work for pain easement on the bed. And my blessed recliner which I have never regretted buying.

On top of all this my doctor had requested I go back on beta blockers for 3 weeks to see if my body would handle them a little better than before (Symptoms: concrete body and constant irritability and exhaustion). Do not give up he said to me on Monday.

So the Twist and Shout happened on Tuesday. It is now Sunday and though still in pain I have moved to a slightly tilted (think Leaning Tower of Pisa) position. Daughter drove in yesterday (goddess bless her, it's a 2 hour drive in) and went nuts in the grocery store. I swear I could live for a month or more on all she brought in. Stuff I would never buy. Mexican, Indian, coffee beans, cans of....name it. She hauled it all in and ran out of shelf space.

I am so grateful that both she and Niece are close by. I can't imagine not having family close by. Incapacitated like this would be a huge challenge for anyone.

I am at the stage of life where I take nothing for granted.

The smallest gesture of kindness just about does my head in with gratitude.

I am reminded even more clearly that many of us, in our old age, are just one twist or fall away from complete dependence.

Be careful out there, my friends.

Time Out

At times I am so overcome with sorrow and compassion for another that the only relief I feel is in a poem.

We can be unaware of our privilege at times. I am lonely very rarely. Many are lonely all the time. A huge hole inside them with the cold wind blowing through and hope a word they read about but have long abandoned as being applicable to their own lives.

I was quite devastated after this visit from someone who broke down in her despair as her last friend ("in the whole world") was moved to palliative care that day.

Her Grief

She wept on me today
With her broken heart
Leaking from her eyes.

Her grief led a procession
Of other losses, other hurts,
Other days, other cruelties

Pouring like a river
Over the bumps and
Potholes of her life

I do not know her
Well enough to
Hold her tightly

But I listened to
Her lament of loneliness
With my heart and hands

And stuffed my own avalanche
Of sorrow deep down
In my own graveyard.

I am posting this not as a "downer" but as a reminder for all of us to recognize our own privilege in the face of such appalling grief.

A Beautiful Obituary

In these troubling times it's good to be reminded there's an amazing and enthusiastic bird watching community in this province. They monitor the bird life zealously and record the "blow-ins" - those birds sent off course in storms and all things avian. The photos are stunning.

One of the more diligent and observant amateurs is Shawn Fitzpatrick. And he posted this on his FB page yesterday and I thought to post it here.Quidi Vidi Lake is right where I live.

Gary is Gone
Copyright(C) Shawn Fitzpatrick
Quidi Vidi Lake, St. John's NL 20200215
The familiar and resounding call from Gary.... his calling card... Hooooonk...Hoooonk _______ Hoooonk Hoooonk!!! It will sound no more 😞
I took this photo three days ago at the lake in blustery and at times white-out conditions.
I have taken many photos of Gary since he graced our beautiful central city lake with his presence.
During his tenure as self-appointed leader of the waterfowl there, he kept an orderly operation. Sometimes he'd scold the Double-crested cormorants for taking up too much real estate for too long.
He was always polite with human patrons of the lake and particularly gentle with children there with their parents feeding him and the ducky's!
I always talked to him and called him in when I went down to feed the crew at the west end of QVL. Gary would always only take a little, never seeming to want to hog everything. It was as if he sensed that the food had to be shared around as best as it could stretch out. So, he would gently eat right from my hand and then move on back out to the water, keeping an orderly eye on the assembly of his waterfowl family.
Gary was a Graylag Goose. He showed up at the lake after being coaxed along by a couple of bird lovers after being first observed along the roadside of Logy Bay Road a few years ago. He was lured to the Virginia river and onward downstream to where it opened up near the Legion into the lake. The rest is legacy 🙂
I started calling him Gary the Graylag and happily enough, it stuck. I think his name suited him well.
From there, he established himself as a much loved fixture. At times keeping the rowers on the water practicing for the regatta on their game, by policing them.
He was known by many, and photographed plenty.
We are going to miss you Gary, you beautiful, handsome goose! I hope that your end was natural, and painless.

PS When Shawn was asked if he had seen the body, he said he had and it was a natural death.
When asked if he buried it so Garyfans could bring flowers and mementos, he said no. He left it there for the bald headed eagles to feast on in the cycle of wildfowl life.

Sunday Smatterings

Thank you France!

It was a shock finding this package of Brioches Au Lait. Actually baked in France. Probably shipped (literally) to our island frozen and then tossed on the bakery shelf. Delicious. I make cheese and tomato rolls with them. I remember trying this particular delicacy on the Channels Islands way back in the mist of time when "Hey Mister Tambourine Man" was a big hit and what happened in Jersey stayed in Jersey.

Web hunting looking for an attractive device to hold my hair (none found anywhere here) I found this. Made in France yet again. And in true La Belle France elegance it came in its own organza bag with a wee satin ribbon. And my dears everyone likes it on my head with my hair piled happily beneath it. I look organized and librarian like. My look. Deceptive.

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I've had two excellent days in a row. Where walking has been less painful and I got all my mountain of laundry done. That sense of overwhelm was absent. I treasure these days more than I can say.
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As the Lodge Lurches
In the "what we don't know about people" department.
Grace's son, all 70 years of him, supervised his "muscles" (his word) - his two grandsons - today as they removed the big furniture from her apartment. A huge amount of it. Eight bookcases. Full of classics and great women writers like Margaret Atwood. This made me sad. If only I had known I would have enjoyed a cuppa with her and a good discussion on our reading habits. She was never one for newsbagging (marvellous Newfoundland word) around the halls. Like myself.

And how has your week been?