Tag Archives: retirement

Winter Makes Me Rant

Trying this post again but not in prose because it froze

Stream of consciousness it is and here’s the biz…

literary program eliminates books day by day

gets me so irritated what can I say?

so the experts debate, relate, egos inflate

premise of show is to find the right book so all Canadians can take a good look

at a book that could change Canada…

c’mon eh?

there’s an end of world kind of tale, an intersexed story,an immigrant fable and two books about indigenous people, as far as I know

I haven’t read these books but heard about them from the show

Day by day, a book is eliminated, gets me frustrated

Timed discussions and debate to get one book off the slate

How can this event be a good thing to inspire the mosaic collection of people that is Canada to run out together and buy the same book and read it so the country changes for the good?

Point taken, televised unfortunately and misunderstood.

Sorry.

 

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Pickup Lines

An older man behind the lunch counter

dismissed initially as a possible seatmate

tiny table in the winter indoor sun

preferable

low key conversation way back

in the market’s deli

discretely held

yet holding my interest

older woman unloading

some comments to a younger person

considerations given

and the gist of it I think

of the audible part….. was about

money

can relate

moving on,  finished, paper napkin and coffee cup

shopping needs doing now that the older senior shoppers have gone home and cleared out of the parking lot and now safer to go out there and not have my nice car whacked by a zooming zoomer

after all is said and done

taking a different approach

to turn in dirty tray to deli workers and proceed

an older man, wearing his coat and winter felt cap

sitting straight and tall at the lunch counter writing intently, noticed now

one glance to see his neatness scribed there, a journal maybe

something he does every day

another peek but useless for telling

anymore

most likely he will be there again and I may say hello and comment

about the day and smile or nod at another older writer

like myself

the comments made by the old woman at the back of the lunch counter

something

about money and frustrating people

another

story

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Home Truths

Boots on for walk on crusty ice through wind tunnelled city

Theatre day

Frozen car, windshield wipers frozen, trunk won’t work

Friend with me and we go as best as we can

Still making up mind about the play

Should have liked it more and maybe I will like it more when I make up my mind to like it

difficult

pain

killers for ache

so unable to relax

completely there

At home relief, collapse and boots still on for support and warmth

No need really

just home

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Sweet Home, Sweet Home

freezing rain

huge pot of chili made with fridge clear out ingredients

batch of butterscotch and chocolate chip cookies

sleeping on and off through the afternoon

roads bad

so dog stays

yet another night

five containers of chili made with onions, tomatoes, zuchinni, mushrooms, celery, carrots, three kind of beans and two kinds of meat now frozen

one batch of cookies but half of the batch left too long in oven and other half perfect

message sent from new neighbourhood coffee shop wifi because son can’t find phone charger in his muddle of unpacked boxes

all ok, found heat control in basement apartment

yesterday, there, my feet froze waiting for him

he’s close and his neighbourhood coffee shop is just one lovely thing

there

an organic and arty little enclave in an old part of the city

going down the village street

besides the neighbourhood coffee shop

an art gallery with meeting places for artists, writers, performers

a library with meeting rooms for readers, writers

poetry in the air there

tiny bakery with funny little signs

plant and flower store

used books for sale in an old house

the tavern looks old time blues and rock and roll

the pub a little more upscale maybe

something for everyone but I like the blues

vintage shops , retro things, records, books, clothes, antiques

quilt making shop giving classes

good old landmark hardware store

fancy coffee place with delicate desserts

a spa or two

historical , quaint, lovely places

even a real grocery store

all just along his village street

where his basement apartment is warming up

Is there any wonder why he stayed in town and left the dog

yet another night with mom

Afterall, it’s freezing rain.

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Long Winter Day and Still the Dog

Traffic was hairy.

The wait in the car turned cold despite the hot coffee at hand.

Time spent reading two quaint English novels, rather.

Once the moving van appeared all went well.

Payment made.

The wait in the apartment turned cold despite the efforts of tiny ancient radiators.

Cell phone not cooperating, of course. Cell phone doesn’t respond to button pushing (that’s right, it’s an old dumb one with buttons) because it is only an emergency phone and rarely gets charged up being a forgotten phone, stuck in a purse. Finally, contact made using the fussy phone.

Hours have gone by.

One end of the line is me, waiting in the cold, mother. Other end is moving day son, dashing about and cleaning up and tuning in keys then driving through rush hour traffic. Two hour wait turns into six hour wait.

At home, dog in crate.

Finally, moving son and waiting mom are reunited, go through drive ‘thru for late fast food supper. Both have not eaten today so gobbling food in car, licking salt from French fries on fingers. Mom has not had French fries for at least donkey’s ages because she is tying to release some weight and it has taken over three years and the same ten pounds come and go.

Dog food , only the best, purchased because at home dog ate last of it for breakfast.

Moving son stays in town to unpack and settle.

Cold mom drives out to country and uncrates dog, walks dog and feeds dog.

Tea and toast for mom and a wee bit of cheese for dog.

Long suffering cat in her high level sleeping basket. Cat now used to living in exile in high level sleeping basket in mom’s bedroom, door shut with all her other needs met with litter discretely handy on another high level. Water in a tiny blue and white saucer, antique. Cat hates dog. Dog doesn’t understand cat’s issues.

Dog not happy, happy, happy having to wait yet another evening for transfer to new home.

Cuddles given, dog relaxes now beside me in the good chair with the soft velour throw, my chair. This time of night she is the most lovely thing, sleeping. I’ll leave her there.

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February 28, 2014 · 11:25 pm

Nomad?

A berry crumble day, laundry going to beat the band and a pile of library books stacked and ready. One more day of doggy duty involving wild times in the snow banks at the side of the house and spot cleaning. Tomorrow, son and dog move yet again. Within my driving limits, they will be only thirty minutes or so away, so close but on their own. They are modern day nomads.

I’ll read all day and night if I want to and no saucy pup will be barking at me to smarten up and feed her or walk her or play with her or deal with any late night disturbance outside on the yard such as a rabbit zipping about, owls hooting in the big old tree or next door neighbour putting out his garbage. Once the floor is clean and washed and all the pee pads are trashed things should really pick up.

Tomorrow is still a busy day of details. The day after will be a recuperation with feet up in between tidy up. The day after that will be back to dealing with unfinished projects. Can’t wait.

As an ancient Scottish ancestor might have said…”.I’m no mad but just a wee bit wearie Dearies….”

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Resonance

For a couple of hours today, my responsibilities and worries just took a back seat as I immersed myself into a unique theatre experience. It was just what I needed. The small theatre was previewing a one man play and I was asked to join a good friend who appreciates the talent of this young actor. Few others were in the audience as it was held mid afternoon, mid week and for whatever other reason. A group from a nursing home filled up the front row with their wheelchairs and caregivers. This setting, this dynamic of patrons, the talent on stage and the content of the play worked a special kind of magic. An insight was achieved and respect worked both ways between the performer ,his accompanist on the piano and the audience. As part of the audience, sitting behind the elderly and in full view of the play, I was caught up in the layers  of human experience. To explain further it was perhaps like play within a play but only to someone sensitive to the professional work on stage, the bravery of spirit embodied in the old folks attending the play as a scheduled outing and the presence of a few others like myself, just theatre goers. I’m glad I didn’t miss it. I’m glad I went. When it works , it is magic.

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Another Black Sock

Elderly tortoise cat perched indignantly on the tall dresser and pudgy brown and white spotted bulldog underfoot , my unfinished project made healthy progress this afternoon. It is not entirely completed but manageable and so a little less overwhelming. With a few days dedicated to more pressing matters it can be pushed aside, once again. Some other projects sit like big clunks in my way but with renewed determination they can be knocked down to size too. The secret to dealing with this is simple.

Simple hides under things that seem to pile themselves while being ignored . Simple starts to demand attention usually when things are complicated .Frustration is simple looking for another black sock. Anxiety is simple being exhausted . Simple makes things happen.

Today, simply started the clunk being whittled a little.

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Seeking a Cure

The last two blog posts that I have written have deleted themselves before I could publish them as if the computer had little gremlins editing content and deciding it wasn’t worthy. This is a bit annoying but I don’t really care. (I really didn’t need those blogs anyway.)

 I’m just trying to get back to blogging after a rest. My first blog that disappeared was about being resourceful. The second one was about cleaning out my closets and still having to finish that task before dealing with more tasks. This third blog is about the current drama about my son relocating yet again for his theatre work and dealing with all of that because it involves  a great deal of dog sitting and other supportive stuff mothers do for their sons.

There is all of this stuff and it can be overwhelming. Being resourceful on top of all this stuff is also conflicting. It is like an never ending pile of stuff that needs dealing with and I would rather not have to face it but I have to because it is my stuff, my son’s stuff and the dog is just the icing on the cake.

Think kindly of me as I work on the cure and blog about it in my own resourceful way. It may just work.

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Something At the Door

Last year, no winter really, so no way to write

anything decent with feeling and meaning.

Creativity joints seized, worried just enough to seek nutrition and rare light.

Some scattering of emotion, distracted.

Winter is roaring again and nothing human walks by.

Half hoping to hear a frozen beat at the door

last hope crashing

yet still expecting renewal.

Support needed, a reminder,

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