Another Great Day in Paradise

Thursday dawned slightly smoky, but there was golden sunshine all day and I could neither see nor smell the smoke. I did chores in the early morning and then Her Highness and I went for a walk on the Ricki Ave. trail. She sometimes balks at walking this trail, but she took to it with enthusiasm.

When we came home, I watered all the Hydrangeas, just to be safe, and then I wrapped Alex and Ashlee’s wedding present. I was very pleased at what I was able to do using materials left over from my crafting days. Then I fed everyone lunch. 

For the past two days, I’ve enjoyed making croque monsieurs for lunch with the béchamel left over from Beth’s visit. I’m very proud of my croques. I learned how to make them when I lived in Nice I grow and love them and I have so many). 

When I put my croque in the oven, I found the ham on the counter. I’d forgot to put the ham in. So, I made a second piece of toast, put béchamel on it and the ham on, top of that, and I put it all underneath the first toast with topping. I made a deluxe Croque monsieur (two-layered. I loved it.

In the afternoon, we went to Drumbeg to do the perimeter walk. The tide was out, there were a bunch of beautifully coloured kayaks on the beach, people were swimming, tourists were marvelling at the extreme current of the incoming tide where Gabriola comes very close to Valdez. Both islands are long, but Valdez is very long and thin. Together they form a wall that creates an incredible tidal flow between the two islands. I saw that yesterday.

Then we went to the cemetery to steal California poppies. They grow wild all over the cemetery which is fenced. So, I stole five of them and transplanted them to my edible garden for colour. Fingers crossed they survive.

Then we came home for dinner and to watch more episodes of Belgravia. I’d been enjoying it and then, just as happens in many law series, I get lost with all the references of names and things said by whom. But I’m sticking with it; it’s entertaining whimsy.

After watching one episode, I went outside and picked a couple of Italian plums from the tree in the front yard, and I ate ‘em as I walked to the edible garden to eat some tomatoes. Soon, the apples will be ready. I have a bagful from Pete from their garden. They get a large harvest; the have several trees.

The smoke casts and eerie light through the day. It feels as though the sun is setting all day. On the plus side, it’s more comfortable in the sun doing chores.  I’m a born optimist. Environment Canada says it’s going to be cloudy here on Tuesday and Wednesday. To me, that means less evaporation and, therefore, less watering.

Late yesterday afternoon, Linda and Al, and Linda's sister and her sister's husband happened by. I don't know Linda and Al, but I've been waving at them as they passed on the street for years. They stopped to chat and I invited them to see the Butterbur because Linda's sister is seriously knowledgeable about plants. She lives in Alberta, though, where gardening is limited. 

They were blown away by my garden and the Butterbur. We talked together for about forty minutes and I loved every second of our conversation. As they left, I thanked them for stopping and told them that serendipitous passing conversations with neighbours is one of the things I love best about life here.

This morning I shall water and then, late this afternoon, I shall water some things again so that they survive until I am back on Sunday. Pete is watering the strawberries and hydrangeas for me on Saturday afternoon while I’m at the wedding. We’ll also walk with our friends this morning.

Just part of one of my large Fuchsia plants growing in 
containers on my deck. It is abundantly covered in blooms.

This is another one. From the other side it is blazinig red, but this
sife shows the lovely whiie ground cover that covers the container.

My prettiest Fuchsia is a beautiful purple.

The fountain is very busy with thirsty birds.

Thunder & Inundation

At 7:45 yesterday morning, a tropical downpour drenched our island. The rain was so loud on the roof, I couldn’t hear the radio or little else. I haven’t seen rain like that here since the atmospheric river about four years ago. I was thrilled to see it and know that I didn’t have to water the gardens.

There’s been thunder all morning prior to the arrival of the storm, so I’d gone outside to bring all the chair cushions inside, thank goodness. It was so shocking because last night I’d checked the forecast and today was predicted to be another hot and sunny day. But what a thrill to see the little streams of water dribbling off everything, and to know that I’d have lots of time for reading during the day. At times I could feel vibrations from the thunder. It was incredible.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen lighting in daylight before. It’s so odd to see daylight briefly and suddenly get brighter. The drowning rain lasted eleven minutes and then settled into light rain. What a blessing it was to get so much rainfall. My rain barrels are full to the brim again. I went outside to check on them, and it was glorious to smell the wetness in such warm air, and while I was out there, more thunder had me and the land vibrating. What an amazing morning!

At 10:00, the rain had turned to angel piss, so Her Highness and I went for our morning walk. As we walked. I saw shadows, and by the time we were coming home, the sun was out and most of the sky was blue. I Zoomed briefly with David and then it was lunchtime for the brood.

On the drive home, I stopped to pick up a copy of The Sounder, our local newspaper. I normally wear reading glasses to read the paper, so I put a pair on and found myself struggling to read. I closed my left eye and read easily, then I closed my right eye and determined that something has gone wrong with my left eye. With my glasses on, I must hold the paper at arm’s length to be able to read it. I reckon it’s time for an eye check-up. It’s a sudden change.

I zoomed with Aidan at 14:00, and then Her Highness and I walked the Elder Cedar trail. Soon after returning, we had dinner and not long after finishing eating I Zoomed with Aidan and seven other stutterers and one speech language therapist. We were going over the presentation SPACE is going to use to inform doctors about how to best communicate with dysfluent people. It was a great session.

Then a bit of television before going to bed as I always do now, early. Four o’clock I’m awakened by my feline alarm clock, so early to bed is important.

Today, another day of mild wild fire smoke overhead, I’ll be doing chores much of the day in advance of going to Vancouver on the weekend. Plus, I’ll have reading time because I don’t have to water today, I’ll just be spot watering. 

Thunder!

I did chores around the house in the early morning—I’d risen at 5:00—and then Her Highness and I went for an early morning walk on our way to Nester’s to do some shopping. Our walk was inspiring. It felt a little Fall-like. The air was a crisp 17°, the dry grass gave Rollo Park a smell reminiscent of the hay smell of horse stalls.  Most of all, it was the position of the sun in the sky that made me feel like Summer was ending.

When we got home and everything was put away, I began watering, and I stuck to it until it was time for my Zoom session with Dr. Shoja. While I was watering near the fountain, a bird landed on my head! The birds are not afraid of me if I remain still. I plan to put a chair by the fountain this week and just sit there to watch all the birds.

The watering time passes easily. I don’t dread the task anymore at all. I have my route and I particularly like watering later in the morning after all the mosquitoes have gone to bed. I love my hoses that don’t tangle and my new nozzles that have multiple streams that make watering more efficient. Soon, I reckon, the weather will change. I hope the endless drought is soon to be over. But no end is yet in sight.

My session with Dr. S. was a good one even though, for the first time in ages, I had no agenda notes. I had lunch after our session and then I thought I’d take some sun, but I couldn’t abide being in the sun anymore. Instead, I came inside and fell asleep on the chaise for a while, and then Her Highness and I went to the Elder Cedar trail to walk.

Our evening was the usual. I renewed my subscription to Britbox and watched The Other Bennet Sister. I’ll be finishing the series tonight. I really liked it.

This morning there was a thin cloud cover in the sky when I got up, but it soon turned to blue skies. However, I was drawn outside by a lot of loud rolling thunder. It kept going for a long time and soon the sky was overcast again. There must be a thunderhead nearby. Perhaps the weather is changing. I hope so!

Today, we’ll walk with our friends, and I’ll be doing some SPACE work for Aidan. I’m Zooming with him this afternoon.

•

Two things of interest happened this past week, things that taught me about my f’ing neurological condition. On Sunday, I went with Beth to Silva Bay for fish tacos. I am fluent with Beth, so we were chatting the whole way to the bay in the car. When we arrived, Kris was there and Steve came shortly thereafter (he had walked), and the four of us were soon laughing and sharing stories.

When Bonnie, Darcy and Sue arrived, I went mute. It confirmed what I already knew, but it was interesting to feel my voice disappear when the three women arrived. It was just too many people for my brain to handle.

And on Monday, when I drove Beth to Courtenay, we were talking all during our wait in the car for the ferry and while we were on the ferry. However, once we got onto the highway, my speech became dreadful. Highways give me the heebie jeebies because of all the speeding traffic I imagine. I was semi-fluent with Marsha and Beth in the White Spot because the place was packed and noisy. 

And yesterday, when I had my session with Dr. S., I couldn’t speak at all for the first ten minutes. The harder I tried, the more my head bobbed and jerked. My brain was misfiring, so I used the chat feature to communicate with her until (rough) speech slowly returned. It’s been ten years and I still get so bloody frustrated by my poor speech.

Driving Beth to Courtenay

It felt like the end of the world when I got up yesterday morning. Sheba and Fred had demanded I rise at 4:00 and it was as black as black can get. There was no moonlight, so it was impossible to see anything when I walked to the back gate to let Sheba out. It felt like the sun had died; I was grateful for the slow dawn that began at 5:30.

I had a lot of watering to do before Beth, Sheba and I left for Courtenay, and I had to take Her Highness for a walk. We departed from Pinecone Park just past eight to ensure that we were on the 8:45 ferry to Nanaimo. Once on the big island, we headed north, gasping along the way at the expansive landscape full of tall, majestic trees.

We gabbed and laughed the entire way. We arrived in Courtenay at 10:30 and found a public pathway beside the sea that was three blocks from the White Spot where we were meeting Marsha. Back in the seventies, all three of us were attached to the Arts Club Theatre: Marsha did graphics and managed season tickets, Beth was an actor who did shows with us, and I was a stage manager. Over lunch, we reminisced and laughed with great pleasure together. 

Beth (L), Marsha and moi. 

Marsha is a treasure. Her partner, Bill, was our boss. He created the most successful theatre company in the country. His fiscal history is impeccable; his artistry played perfectly to Vancouver audiences. Ours stage was the floor of an old gospel hall; the audience sat on chairs on risers sloping away from the stage area on two sides. I studied Bill and applied all I learned to the design and management of the theatre I built years on.

Marsha took Beth to catch the bus to Campbell River where she caught a ferry to Quadra Island to visit with her friends, David and Tara, and I easily found the coastal route south to Nanaimo. I am so glad I did that. I’d never seen the views before, and they were amazing in places where I could see the sea. It was sunny, beautiful and warm. Sheba slept in the back. We stopped in Union Bay to go for a walk and made our way to the ferry.

We only had to wait half an hour to get onto our vessel, and we were home at 15:00. I had the best time with Beth, but it was also wonderful to come home to solitude. I crashed onto the chaise once I had checked for thirsty plants, and I reflected on things done and said with Miss Beth. We had a great time. She loved the trees, the birds on my fountain, and the quiet. I did very little cooking, and I’m glad all our meals weren’t out. It was fun to get comfortable at home—dining in the garden and then watching a movie.

I video called Dianne when I got come, to talk with her about coming to stay at her place on Saturday for her daughter’s wedding in Dianne’s backyard. I’m glad I did because she is clear about my vulnerabilities. She makes me feel safe and when I feel safe, I feel good and I function well. There are going to be a lot of strangers, but there’s also going to be a small cadre of friends whom I’ve known for decades. And Sheba’s coming.

I dread leaving, but there’s no way I’d miss Ashlee’s wedding to Mr. Wonderful, Alex. I’m going to take a Lorazepam on Saturday as a neuro-psychiatric prophylactic. 

I’m back in my world, and that means I must water today. This is the time of year when I must water every day, but the bottles I’ve installed in places to seep water to some plants means I don’t have to water some pants twice a day—my many Hydrangeas and Strawberries, one Skimmia and a Flowering Plum tree.

At 11:00, I see Dr. Shoja.

As Beth has witnessed, I pooh-poohed counselling as I grew up. For one thing, I was very self-reliant and felt well adjusted. I carried trouble about being so badly adopted. My discomfort I felt about my past seeped into my conversations. I think that’s why Beth, and others, felt that I would benefit from counselling services. I tried it a couple of times and hated both tries.

And now, here I am in my eleventh year with Dr. S. I can see her for life. I think I get this expensive therapy for free because of my condition, obviously, but I think it’s also because the trauma was neglect and now I live alone and have no family support. She soothes me because she remembers what we talk about and that means she listens. And well. And she advises, if asked. And she’s truly understanding of my feelings.

A huge benefit of having her in my life, is that I don’t talk about my past and my pains with my friends. I needed someone to talk to when my breakdown happened because I had a BIG recovery challenge. What a life I have lived since then! 

I’m going to be eighty next year. When puberty hit and I discovered that I was gay, my migraines started and they ate up many of my weekends. I can’t help but believe it was because I had to be with Don and/or Connie. I never had a migraine on a weekday. I was a sickly kid.  My angst and shame may have contributed to my preponderance of illnesses. I’ve had three heart attacks, asthma since puberty, and AIDS. Early on in life I had every reason to believe I would not live long.

I had two friends whose work made me think of them as very healthy and strong. Mike was an engineer who travelled the globe project managing the building of pulp and paper mills; Bob was a geologist who worked in Tanzania. And they were very sporty. They both died a decade ago, and Mr. Sicky is still ticking. Go figure.

As anyone who knows me knows, I make decisions easily and quickly. Moving here was a decision veryquickly taken.

One day I was having people over for dinner. I had a lot to do in the kitchen to be ready AND to be rested before the arrival of my guests. I always made dessert the day before the dinner, and I prepared everything for the evening. I prepared all the ingredients and measured all the spices so that I could cook comfortably. My plan was to conserve energy for conversation and to prevent fatigue. 

On this day, I was making a complex meal of several courses. It was a show-off meal. And I was resenting having to take time to fucking vacuum the big rug and hall runner and to do a quick clean-up of the bathroom. And suddenly, I had an epiphany. I decided that henceforth, I would never do that again. Guests would live in my home that’s always in pretty good repair, and my focus would stay on food.

I’d vacuum the morning after the dinner, making the vacuuming for me and not for my guests. When I went into grade seven, I was told that I was in the ‘accelerated program,’ and that I was going to take math at UBC. My counsellor told me my academic career would be in math.

After three months, I got out of the programs. I got a lot of side-eye from a couple of my teachers, but I was clear about where my interests lay: theatre, literature, and visual art. I believe that is when “I” was born. It was the first time I took responsibility for about how I was going to live my life. It was the first time I stood up for myself. I was eleven.

When I changed to vacuuming for me, that was a second awakening of the need to have a certain amount of “me first.” I was extremely frightened socially, and very insecure because of my secret: that I was a homo. I wanted to blend in with the furniture. Speaking up for myself was a sign of growth.

Now, my “me first” attitude is my all day every-day existence. I live a precautionary life, defined by needs created by my neurological condition.