Covid Shot Day

Monday morning was overcast and it was chilly, so Mr. Pussy wore his long johns for our walk. I was warm and cozy during our walk with our friends. It was a lovely brisk morning, and I love trail walking. A good time was had by all humans and canines.

When we were done, Her Highness and I went into the village to do some food shopping. And for once, we did not have to go to the pharmacy. But … I ordered my HIV pills from the St. Paul’s pharmacy. Last time I ordered them, they didn’t come, and I panicked because it is dangerous to miss a dose of medication because the virus can mutate.

When I did finally reach someone to talk with about the problem, she implied that I had not ordered my drugs, making it my fault, and that really pissed me off. I recounted this grim history on the answering system of the pharmacy this morning, and I told them that I was ordering early in case they don’t arrive again.

Once back home, it was time to chill, do some tidying and cleaning, and to see if I had a book that might engage me. I love these days alone and without any meetings or meals or anything. I thrive in solitude, and I feel so good not having to talk for days on end—except to my beloveds, and when I do, I am fluent.

I don’t usually nap. There was a time when I did every day; that was when my asthma was bad. But I haven’t napped for months … until yesterday when I had a doozy. I slept soundly for over an hour. How I love being retired! And when I awoke, all rested, Sheba and I went for our afternoon walk in the 707.

When we arrived there, I found that someone had dumped a lot of their domestic garbage right at the entrance to the park. What fucker did that? There is almost no litter on this island. I never see any, and when I do, I often pick it up for disposal, so it’s revolting and shocking to see how little regard some people have for nature, our island and other islanders. 

I wanted to see if there was anything that might identify the dumper, but there was no clue. I’d have loved to take it back to someone and throw it all over their yard. Yes, I am immature. Yes, I love revenge, but I’m also afraid of conflict so I talk big but I’m a chicken. I’d never do that, but I’d return it to their driveway neatly if I could. 

This morning, it’s overcast and cool. I don’t know what I’ll do today, but I’ll enjoy the day. We’ll walk, and I’ll probably do more tidying. I’m so chuffed by my sparkling clean fridge and tidy cupboards that I want to do more. I need to tidy up my closet and divest myself of some clothes that I never wear. At noon, I get my Covid shot. That’s my big event of the day.

My Day is a Good Day

I walked Sheba at 8:00 yesterday morning. Now that we’re on Standard Time, the light breaks close to 6:30 instead of 7:30, so it’s nice to be able to walk earlier in good light. And when we were finished walking, I dropped Her Highness off at the house and went into the village to Mad Rona’s to meet Kelly for breakfast.

We had a lovely visit and then she invited me back to Jay’s place to see if I wanted some of his sweaters. The best part of going back to Jay’s was meeting Shannon, Jay’s other sister whom I had never met. She is lovely and so the three of us had a lovely visit and then I came home with three sweaters, two coats and three pairs of shoes. Jay, like me, had big feet.

I fed the brood when I got home, and I had my lunch, and then I chilled for a few hours before it was time to go to Elder Cedar to meet Eoin and François so that we could walk our dogs together. And with that, My Day was over, it was time to go home and have dinner on the chaise with a movie.

This morning is dark and it’s chilly, but we will walk with our friends this morning and the rest of the day, which may turn out to be nice later in the day, will be spent tidying, cleaning and puttering around the house.

Faith in Dr. S.

I believe that it’s honest to say that I have successfully changed my eating habits permanently. I am a touch proud to say so because I had let my addiction to sweets rule my life and my body paid the price. My doctor told me when I was called into the clinic, that I was pre-diabetic. I couldn’t believe it. I never eat sweets now, except very rarely when I go out for dinner with friends. 

I stopped eating sweets on August 7^th, so hearing that I’m pre-diabetic was shocking. The doctor spoke to me assuming I ate a lot of processed foods, but I don’t. I make almost everything, including my sauces and dressings, from scratch. I’ll be more diligent henceforth. The high cholesterol is likely due to my passion for prawns, shrimp, and scallops. That is going to stop even though I’m now on a new medication.

I like my new way of eating. I am never hungry, but whenever I eat, I consume very small or small servings. Only dinner is a normal-size portion, still I am very conscious of serving size. I’ve cut pasta from my meals and that’s a big change. In the past, I ate pasta, and lots of it, every night for months on end.

One thing I’m going to have to watch is how much coconut milk I consume. I’ve become a big consumer of it because I make a batch of laksa often. But that may change. I won’t however, abandon my love of Asian meals. Last night I had chicken; I hadn’t bought or eaten any for probably six months.

Thankfully, the heavy rain slowed by 8:30, and so Her Highness and I were able to walk the flooded trail #6 in the 707 Park. We came right home under very dark sky to bask in the heat of the fire. I kept busy all morning doing chores. I’ve tidied and re-organized my pantry and started cleaning the fridge. I will finish the fridge today and start on the hall cupboard after I’m done.

Much to my amazement, the sun came out just before noon, so after lunch we went to Elder Cedar to walk the circuit. I’m sick of limping and I’m sick of the pain in my foot, and the worst part is that it is never going to get better. Jennifer said that she was going to send me to someone who would give me a shot of a steroid in my heel, but so far, I’ve heard nothing.

When we got home, I did more work on the fridge. It feels so, so good to open the fridge door now and see pristine glass shelves and all my food looking clean and neat. To reward myself for all the cleaning and tidying of the day, I subscribed to Mubi—actually, to the seven-day free trial—so that I could watch The History of Sound last night. It stars the impossibly desirable Paul Mescal and Josh O’Conner whom I also fell for when he was playing Lawrence Durrell in The Durrells in Corfu.

And what a movie! It began as a short story bearing the same name, published in The Common, the literary journal of Amherst College. I know this, because I looked it up on Wikipedia. And why did I look it up? Because the screenplay is everything in this movie. The actors, therefore, had the enormous challenge of making a script that is profoundly literary, feel like true and honest speech for their characters.

It's about love, in this case, love between two men who meet through their passion for folk music. The soundtrack is full of beautiful, acoustically performed folk songs, and the movie ends with the protagonist explaining his love of folk-music, and it is a beautiful testimonial to hear.

It’s certainly not for everyone. How can it be when it’s about two men in love? The gay aspect of the film is almost incidental, but it’s where all the emotional force of the film comes from. But … the film is just as much about the writing and the music. It’s two hours of heavenly storytelling, of escape from our fucked up world, and engagement with a powerful movie about forbidden love and folk music.

It's streaming on Mubi, and you get a week free if you buy a subscription. I signed up and I’ll cancel my subscription before the week is up. I do this often.

And then bedtime. How I love sleeping! I’ve become very, very good at it since my breakdown. I regularly sleep seven hours a night. Pre-breakdown, I only slept for four hours a night for twenty-five years, and I was never tired. Last night, with the skies so clear, the stars were spectacular, and I had a long look at them before climbing into a nice warm bed.

Pictures say a thousand words. I have many other photos of Steve like this, all in different getups. Whenever he goes out, he dresses up ‘appropriately.’ What they all have in common is an extreme “look at me” factor. I moved here to live where there was the least possible stimulation. We were doomed from the start. We broke on the night of a party which I did not want to attend. It made Steve mad, and he announced that he was leaving me.

Two friends of 52 years dumped me. They denied my diagnosis, ridiculed my doctor and psychiatry, and Franny has rejected three tries from me to reconcile. She asked me what was wrong with me, and I told her what my diagnoses were. Then Franny asked me why I got these diseases, and I told her about being neglected, and off they went. 

It was so sudden and vicious, I didn’t know what to say. I don’t even remember if I could speak. I usually can’t if there’s anger around. But when I told her about my diagnosis, she asked, “And you believe her?” She didn’t! She felt she knew better than Dr. S. what was wrong with me, and it hurt to hear a friend speak about me the way she did. But her question made me think.

When Dr. Shoja told me her thesis about me, it shocked me. My next appointment was two weeks away, so I had time to think and formulate questions. But I didn’t have to think much. I believed her thesis. However, I’m glad I questioned it a second time when old bitchface asked it of me with disdain.

The passing of time has allowed me to realize that many things I remember from my life with Steve, before, and since, reinforce my faith in Dr. Shoja’s theses.

One of the worst things ever in my life was my surprise 50^th birthday party. The collected crowd gathered around to watch me open the incredibly wonderful present they had bought me collectively, and all they saw was pain on my face and me rubbing the back of my head. I mumbled some kind of gratitude and fled to my bedroom after only a few words.

I couldn’t handle everyone looking at me. I felt like I was against a wall and that all my friends were a firing squad. I felt intense pain in my head and physical agony through my body. That’s why I fled the room. I’m the polar opposite of my beloved Steve. He loves attention, and attention is anathema to me. We failed as a couple, but we are first rate friends to each other, and we will be forever.

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Today has dawned bright, sunny and cold (5°). We are going for an early walk together, then I will leave her here and go into the village to meet Kelly for breakfast. Later this afternoon, we will walk with Eoin and François. It’s My Day; all will go well.

Wet, Wet, Wet

Friday was one wet day. We did not walk with our friends in the morning. Instead, we walked together by ourselves in light rain (that Sheba hates). As the morning progressed, my fire got bigger as the winds picked up, and the rain turned heavy. It was a lovely day to be warm and cosy indoors.

On Thursday evening, I clicked on a video on YouTube that caught my eye, and in it I met Jude, a young and very, very charming Englishman who is documenting his redevelopment of an old Scottish farmhouse in north-eastern Scotland. He quickly became another subscription of mine on YouTube.

Jude made his life changing decision to move to Scotland when both his parents died of cancer a short time part and left him with some cash and a dreadful overwhelming sense of loss. He’d never lived rurally, and he, like me, is not inclined to tools and machinery, but he is terribly impressive at learning and doing everything he needs to do. And he is brilliant with food. (In one video he pans his just completed pantry, and I noticed several books by Nigel Slater.)

Yesterday morning was spent watching a bunch more of his videos and now I am up to speed with him. When I was done, I fed the four-legged trio and then settled onto the chaise to see how things would go reading a David Sedaris novel entitled Naked. It did not go well. Although I have read and enjoyed his memoires, this book is non-fiction and each chapter is unrelated to the others, so each one is almost a very short story. I was not engaged. I’ll try to read more, but I’m not hopeful.

Anticipating more trouble with reading, I bought a year’s worth of watching YouTube without ads. It cost me $140, but for a year, given the amount of subscriptions I enjoy watching on the site, it is worth it. I am so glad to be free of a streaming service that does not insult me with stupid adverts.

The evening was spent as passes every other: dinner (butter chicken), chaise, electric blanket, and television (with frequent checks on the world series score). And my day ended in my favourite place: in my wonderfully cozy bed and with Sheba keeping me close company.

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Whoa, I awoke to rain thundering on the roof. It was deafening, and I thought today would require a big fire and a different book than David Sedaris. It is sincerely stormy out there. However, tomorrow is likely to be a much nicer day and I may get a chance to do some yard work that needs doing. Every day thrills me. I love my house, my pets and every aspect of my life here on Gabriola.