Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Life is Beautiful





It’s a shame that the loss of power and the noise of the generator dominated my thoughts right after the storm because this island park in which I live has never looked so beautiful as it does now. The snow in the trees and the deep blue of the sky create a beauty that is unendingly uplifting.
With the power back and quiet restored, the beauty of this place overwhelms me. The snow is packed where I have been walking making Pinecone Park truly look like a ski resort; the snowshoes on my log cabin walls go a long way to help create that feeling.
There’s been no melting so the snow has stayed in the trees. And more snow is predicted tomorrow, then rain and warmer temperatures.
The porch is thrilling me. It looks better each day. I can see myself in it come summer: Me and the pets on comfy furniture, drinks on the coffee table, a swivel fan keeping us cool and lots of plants and snacks; the hammock up in the trees nearby and the cool tub right outside the door.
Today it’s -1°! But I can imagine what a wonderful summer asset it’s going to be. Fred and Ethel are going to love it!
Darrell is going to make me a bespoke extension cord — a heavy cable to carry power from the generator (relocated to the sauna building) to a duplex outside my dining room door. Then I’ll use my huge collection of extension cords to connect the box to my essential appliances, popping them through the cat door. (The whole idea is Darrell’s , including using the sauna for the generator.)
Not only that, he’s going to build me a handrail and steps to make it easier to get in and out of the hot tub. You have to be a member of Cirque du Soleil right now to get in. Entrance and exit involves showing God your place where the sun don’t shine.
Today my beautiful “found” door gets framed into the porch. It excites me to get up every day when Darrell is working and I get to see change.
As I’ve said: Darrell is a saint.
Dianne and DR have cancelled their visit. Sadly, DR is sick. They were due tomorrow to stay ‘till the weekend but we’ll have more fun when they come further into Spring and when there is not a foot of snow on the ground.
However, my friend Rob is coming to visit next week. We set the date yesterday and reserved tickets on the seaplane.
Dr. Shoja cancelled our March 13th appointment. Two years of help are coming to an end. It’s good but I’m sad to say goodbye. I feel it’s mission completed not accomplished.
I hoped, and I think Dr. Shoja may even have believed, that my stutter might stop — not forever but for “the majority of my living experience.” I think she thought the seizures would stop, too. I still have faith that the seizures will stop – that’s why I stay home. But I have lost faith that my stutter will disappear.
Yesterday I went to the hardware store and asked for some help. The woman told me where to go — as in where to find lanterns. To my delight and surprise, she followed me and when she started speaking again I blurted out unfiltered: “Est-ce un accent français que tu as?”
With delight, she said: “Mais oui. Quebecoise.” And off we went. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken French so comfortably. I’m talking here of something other than fluency; I felt so at ease speaking to her and I never stuttered once.
We talked for a while — all utilitarian — and then I switched to English to show her how hard speaking in English is for me.
She said: “C'est un plaisir de parler ma propre langue, monsieur. Je te remercie.”
Win: Win.



















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