Hopelessness

The holiday Monday began with a dog walk in the rain with my friends and our doggers. Although it was wet, I love walking in the rain when it is not cold, and then coming home to a fire and a good book—especially when nothing is troubling me, such as having to assemble the splitter or having to go to an appointment. I’m looking forward to the coming weeks with nothing to do. The problem with endless day of doing nothing, however, is that I do nothing to write about on my blog.

It rained all day Monday, but midday there was a break and so Ron took Her Highness for a walk. Otherwise, we all spent a lovely relaxing day together in the house and in both the morning and evening we had a short fire.

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My final step is set up with my bank. As of October 16^th, I will have finally solved my communication problem with the bank. I’ll have security clearance as of that date and a means by which to solve any problems I have with online banking. I’m amazed and relieved!

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It rained like mad Tuesday morning.  It was too wet to walk but we managed to have a walk together twice during the day. I finished my series of 30 novels about Commissaario Brunetti, and I have started (barely) the Abraham Verghese novel. Hooray!

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I’ve got a bit of cabin fever. I often do at this time of year after a long season of life outdoors. I’ve started my 700-page book, and I’m slowly working on monologue 2. The slower I go, the longer the writing will last and the further in my future is the dreaded memorizing. I’m watching the weather to see if I can comfortably go to Vancouver to see John and Bunny.

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I’m going to do my own will using an online service. In the past, I’ve always used a lawyer, but I have confidence in the much less expensive online service. I’ll use the language of my existing will, done by a lawyer, to write the text I want to use online. It’ll feel good to get that done. I’ve also got a document about personal things to revise.

I’ve had a few scary moments of late. I’m seeing my NP at the end of the month. My best guess, based on what I feel when the event comes on, is that I may be experiencing a gap between when my heart goes into arrest, and then my pacemaker kicks in. When it happens, I definitely am on my way to death or unconsciousness. I can’t tell. 

I’ve fainted before, and I know that experience. What I’m experiencing now is not like fainting. I’ve also passed out, and that was not long ago, but it was like a switch went off and then came on. I remember walking to a light switch, and the next think I know is that I woke up on the floor near the sofa and threw up. What I’m experiencing now is not that either, and it’s extremely scary, but it’s over as suddenly as it comes on.

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I watched a great movie last night called Science Fair. It’s a documentary about the international science fair annual competition. The Nobels are for accomplished geniuses; the science fair competition winners are the laureates of their generation. These geniuses are teenagers, and the doc focuses on a handful of them.

Myllena Braz de Silva and Gabriel de Moura Martins, two teens from Ceará, an impoverished region of Brazil, who undertake research to help stop the spread of the Zika virus. But it’s the story of Kashfia, who is one of the only Muslim students at an enormous school in South Dakota that broke me. You see her in her school where the corridors celebrate the proud history of the school’s football team. There are acres of football trophies on view. 

Kashfia is shy and wears a burqa. She is invisible in her school. She becomes district champion, then state champion and then a first place finish in her category at the international competition, but her achievement goes unreported in the school. All her achievements were ignored by the school administrators/ 

Then, on the CBC this afternoon, Rich Terfry did something unusual. He talked about a North Carolina radio station that announced their decision not to broadcast some of this season’s operas that are broadcast on radio stations all over the continent on a program called Saturday Afternoon at the Opera. Set aside that their broadcast license with the MET requires them to broadcast every performance, they chose to not broadcast operas composed by African American composers. 

Long ago, I got addicted to a book in the reference section of the Vancouver Public Library. It was huge in size, content and ambition. When you opened it up to the first double-spread, down the left-hand margin were periods of time, and across the top are categories of human achievements and events, and as you turned the pages you read of the history of mankind from the beginning of time to today. I was addicted to the book when I discovered it. I went into the library almost every day I wasn’t working.

All my life human activity has interested me. The history of wars or politics doesn’t interest me. This this book fascinated me because it was neutral. It took a global approach, and my education was English/Canadian centric. To see the events of my cultural history contextualized by events and achievements in cultures all over the world is a spectacular experience. When I was done with the book, in one sentence I would say this is the story of how power and knowledge moved from east to west.

One of the most shocking things I learned was that antisemitism has been going on forever and provoked incidents all in many places around the world. History is littered with wars over the acquisition and protection of resources, land and power. It seems to me, however, that no population has suffered more for their faith that the Jewish people.

When I heard about the opera and then the non-reporting of Kashfia’s achievements in her high school newspaper and administration announcements just sickened me. I have no hope. I hate human beings. The downside of being a decent person is the pain you feel about what we do as a species. History will record Trump and the first person to make lying a political strategy—a winning strategy.

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The rain has stopped, but it is dark and wet out there. It’s a day to stay inside (except for walks) and to be warm and comfy on the chaise with my book. It’s going to be another slow day.