Four More Sleeps

It’s an absolutely stunning morning. The sky is clear and the air seems pristine; I can see Vancouver Island clearly from my office window.

I’m housebound today, awaiting delivery of my deck heater, bar-b-q, patio table and its bench. I’m hoping they all come early so I can venture over to North Vancouver to get spa supplies. Todd has sent me list of chemicals for my hot tub so he clearly plans to get it operational this weekend.

And, bless Todd: He’s bringing a chimney broom to clear out the chimney.

On Monday I changed my address on my driver’s license, served notice to my strata and ordered a three-month stash of HIV medications — all before the brunch I enjoyed with several theatre friends at The Sylvia. I picked up Bruce (on foot) on the way.

In the afternoon I went to Service Canada to change my address for my pension providers and afterwards I did a little more kitchen packing. Now I’m really down to the last items.

I had to “play deaf” at Service Canada. I signed that I have good hearing and she smiled and acknowledge my sign with a thumbs up but continued to write to me. At that point writing out that I am not deaf would have felt awkward — almost rude — so I just let her keep writing her questions. She was faultlessly polite and kind and not at all condescending, just nervous perhaps.

But I feel like a professional mute now. I’m no longer uncomfortable with by my speech condition. I carry a note pad and write my questions or needs and everything works just fine. And I’ve stopped apologizing. I think that’s a sign of progress. A week today is my eighteen-month mark without speech (except with trusted friends).

I stopped working at 4:30 for a bath with Vivaldi. At five, Dianne, Ashlee and DR arrived for champagne before dinner at the Granville Island Hotel. It was our “last supper” together before my move.

Four more sleeps.

New ID Day

Today, tomorrow, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and all my furniture goes at 8:00 am and I spend the day and night in an empty condo. Saturday, it’s the 6:30 am ferry to my new life. That’s the week ahead.

I woke at 4:30 Sunday morning. I washed all my bedding and finished emptying my downstairs locker of all my art artifacts and carefully packaged them. I threw out stuff I’d been undecided about; as the deadline looms I’m getting better at culling.

I bundled and wrapped all my linear art supplies — lots of rolls of different papers and fabrics and I’m well into the kitchen packing — it’s an enormous task when you’ve been through a cooking mania and acquired a zillion machines and utensils. And I bound all my picture frames and mirrors together.

Than at 8:30 I had a bath and a rest. After that I went for supplies: Kitty litter, diet coke and bubble bath. Yes, I’m making porn.

The street is hard. I have several episodes every day when I’m outside. I assume the stress of moving and packing has me so sensitive to stimulants — especially noises. I do my shopping as early as I can. But I’m pretty much done now.

I’ve four more days to prep for the movers and I own this condo until October 31 so I can come back at my leisure for the few things I use to clean up and to transfer delicate things like my fine glassware.

The aquarium and my fish were huge issues but they’re all dealt with now — the tank and all my supplies donated and the livestock to a new (and excellent) home. The hard part was arranging for the fish to be fed here after I leave and until Costin takes the tank.

Not long ago I had to think up things to do every day! No more.

I lunched with Cathy who gifted me with a lovely looking book: Walking by Henry David Thoreau. I can hardly wait to read it in my cabin! It’s my second housewarming present!

I spent the afternoon doing more packing then relaxed with my second bath of the day at 5:30. I chilled proud of myself because I’d passed a highly productive Sabbath. Then it was drinks and dinner with Robin before going to bed early so I can be first in line at the Motor Vehicle Branch this morning.

And what a week ahead: Sunny skies and beautifully warm temperatures all week — and then the move. Only five more sleeps.

Me and Bambi

To get to my house you left on Buttercup, right on Wild Cherry and right again on Violet Crescent.  Be careful of the bunnies and chicks; I'll be skipping in clover when you come with Bambi.

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I’m feeling assisted by gravity; it feels like its all downhill from here to life in the cabin. There’s less to do and what’s left to do involves no heavy lifting. Today’s duties are light.

Yesterday I arranged for two cords of firewood to be delivered. If it involves chopping, I’m up for it. It for sure involves stacking and I’m seriously up for that. I’ll be using wood as my primary source of heat. I’ve a proper wood stove (not an open fireplace) and ceiling fans for circulation.

Also yesterday I stocked up on chocolate, champagne, pasta and rice. Priorities, right? And I wrote to all my doctors to give them my change of address; I’ve only one more prescription to transfer.  

My next book will be The Mover’s Diet or How Wrapping, Lifting, Carrying and Stress Can Create the Body You Want.

The table Dwight and Laura gave me is beautiful. It’s solid wood and rectangular. It’ll fit beautifully in my space — and I love that henceforth I’ll be dining at a table gifted to me by such dear friends. And I’m setting it up on Thanksgiving. How sweet is that?

Tomorrow I go to change my address at the Motor Vehicle Branch. That seems significant. It’s my primary ID document and I look forward to seeing my name linked and inked in plastic near the words “Gabriola Island.”

And I’m chuffed by the “0” in my postal code: V0R 1X5. That “0” is code for “rural.” The only better code is two central zeros.

Six more sleeps.