Doom Morning

Monday began with a flurry of domestic chores prior to meeting our friends for some cool forest walking. I love our walks, every single time I go walking, no matter what the weather or the pain, my mood is lifted and I feel so, so happy to be alive. I am amazed by how powerful nature is as a healing force.

We took a long walk. I was glad to be taking advantage of the decent weather to walk Her Highness. The rain held off all during our walk. It only began to get quite wet when we got back to our cars.

When we got home, it was lovely to arrive to a clean and tidy home. It isn’t always this way. I tend to let things go and then do a big clean. It is a constant battle to keep the house, my beds, my cooking containers… everything clear of Fir needles. And of course, once I put the vacuum away, all I see are the needles I missed.

When I got home, I started working on our SPACE survey. We are circulating a survey to stutterers and others with communication difficulties to document their problems accessing service providers. This is part of the grant that Aidan and I are working on. But I found that I couldn’t do the work alone as so much of our objectives and methodologies are in Aidan’s head, so we will work on the survey together tomorrow while chatting on Zoom.

After lunch, I read while cozy under the electric blanket, and I watched a bit of the Olympics, but I’m just not feeling the love for them as much as I once did. I’ve been enjoying reading more. So, that’s what I did until it was time for our afternoon walk. When we got back, our usual evening pattern began.

I watched a vampire movie last night. It is my first venture into horror since I was about thirteen years old. I have no interest in horror and science fiction stories, but the movie Sinners has more Oscar nominations than any other movie in Oscar history. It held my interest and I was not diving for the mute button or fast forwarding. It is a very clever movie. The director is extremely present in the way the story is told. It’s a compelling movie.

CBC’s The National is on at 20:00 during the Olympics, so last night I watched it as a chaser to horror and what I saw was far more frightening than the movie. The National does a ‘deep dive’ into stories in its second half-hour, and last night was bout the behavior of ICE agents interspersed with interviews with experts in constitutional law. And holy fuck. I don’t have any interest in the news, so I was horrified by what I saw, especially during the focus on the murder of the two innocents in Minneapolis.

I cannot imagine being an American citizen and seeing federal agents masked and in full war gear bullying people with impunity. If I was an American, I would not live in a big city. I’d want to leave my country or move into a small rural town not in a red state. America is at war with itself. Fuck.

And speaking of war. Last night was very scary. I wake up to pee often and last night, when I woke up early this morning, the moon looked orange when I looked out the window, and when I came back to bed, I noticed that the moon was moving rather quickly. I couldn’t make sense of it. The next time I got up, I thought it must be raining hard, so I opened the window and the noise was very loud, but I couldn’t account for it. And then I noticed another moving moon; this one was white. What the fuck?!

When I finally got up at 4:30, I fed the pets, lit the fire and booted up my computer and our Facebook page was filled with moving images of moving moons. It turns out that the military is conducting exercises very close to us and what I saw were huge flares, and the noise was military planes.

Today is all for me. No SPACE work, no appointments or Zooming, just reading and walking. The brood and I are going to have a fabulous day together.

My Day

It was a surprise to rise to clear skies and cold air (-1°). I rose at 5:00, fed the brood, lit a big roaring fire and settled down at my computer to watch my favourite vlogger, Martijn Doolaard. He bought two old stone homes that had been abandoned for years. I started watching his videos every Sunday four years ago, and I love visiting with him every week.

I had a Zoom call with my fellow BC stutterers at 10:00, so we went on a good long walk just before 9:00 and we were back in plenty of time for the call. It’s always fun to meet with the group on Zoom, and when we were done it was lunchtime, so all were fed. Then I watched the Olympics for a while, after which I read more of my book and then Sheba and I went to Rollo Park to walk in the sunshine.

My big treat to myself for My Day was making popcorn to eat while I watched the Olympics, and as it popped the smell filled me with nostalgia for times past when I loved going to movies. I always got popcorn. I reckon the last time I was in a movie theatre was a dozen years ago. When I lived in Vancouver, I lived about five blocks from a movie megaplex, so seeing movies was easy. I wonder if I will ever see a movie again in a theatre. I worry about the sound levels.

The evening was the usual, but I watched more Olympics instead of a movie.

Today we’ll walk with our friends and then the day will likely roll out like yesterday. There’ll be Olympics, reading, walking and eating. I have an easy week with only one scheduled thing to do, and that’s chatting with Aidan on Wednesday. But I may have lunch with my neighbour Sandi on Friday.

Thursday is the 14^th when we will be half-way through the month and there is still no snow predicted. Hooray!! I don’t recall ever getting snow in March, so I’ve only two more weeks of Winter to worry about snow. The only reason I hate snow is what it does to the garden. 

Me and God

Well … yesterday began early. I was wide awake at 4:00 and when Fred heard me sneeze, he was all over the bed and howling like a wolf. Thankfully, I am not at all bothered by the noise and the insistence of both him and Sheba to get fed. I can nap if I get tired. Besides, the noise of rain on the roof told me that I was in for a long lazy day by the fire, so I got up.

I love the early mornings. I read things online, I answer emails, I pay bills, anything that keeps me at the keyboard while the fire warms the house and the pets sleep. They always go back to bed once they are fed. I don’t shower until the house has warmed up a bit, but once done, Her Highness and I went for our very wet morning walk.

When we got home, I watched some of the Olympics on the CBC and I was struck by how compelling it was to watch the various competitions. But then I’ve always loved watching the Olympics. I watched the men’s snowboard air and the women’s cross-country skiing, and there were very few ads. So, the heavy density of ads during the opening ceremonies telecast happened because of pure corporate greed. I’m disgusted with that decision, but nothing will dent my love of the CBC.

After lunch I read. I am back with Bruno in the Perigord, the principal character in a long list of titles by Martin Walker. This time, however, I am not having as much fun. In psych classes at uni, I was struck by something the prof said about liars: he said that liars often are terrific embellishers. He said that they think that by adding details that they gain credibility when in fact, they do the opposite.

I’m finding Mr. Walker is adding too many details that were once the reason for my passion for his series. Every book has virtual recipes of traditional paysanne dishes. You can almost smell and feel the air. His writing is delicious and perhaps I have been overexposed and lost some of my appetite. I still have no problems enjoying the book, but I have that ‘I’m onto you’ feeling.

Our afternoon walk was damp but not wet. However, no matter the weather, I love our walks 99% of the time. When I don’t it’s because of my foot or hip or some such thing. I have the clothes that enable me to be comfortable, dry and warm no matter the weather. And when we got home, I read until dinner time.

The evening was the usual. 

•

I was born into Catholicism, and I embraced it. I’ve told you before that one year I won an award that I call the Suck Hole of the Year Award. I don’t know what it was officially called, but each year in our diocese it was awarded to a ‘best girl’ and ‘best ‘boy.’ One year, I was that boy.

When my sexuality emerged, rather than run from the church, I thought I could kill two birds with one stone by becoming a priest. I loved the church and I wouldn’t have to explain my celibacy. But I was far too horny to be a priest, so I left the church in disbelief that I could belong to such a cult. There was a seismic shift in my attitude when I realized how the church had let me down over my adoption.

However, I kept my relationship with God. Post-breakdown and after years of psychotherapy, I believe I needed a friend and He was there and always on call. I don’t know anything about Judaism, but I have lived with a belief from somewhere that their religion is direct between the individual and God. That was what gave me the idea. Keep the bathwater.

I thought of God as my friend, and it was easy because I loved my life. Get this: I am given up by my first mother, abandoned by my second, and my father. I had to deal with being gay when it was illegal. I had killer 48-hour migraines every Friday for years. I had major surgery (six weeks in hospital in Ottawa), all the childhood diseases, AIDS, 3 heart attacks, 2 pacemaker failures, left by my partner, and my breakdown. And there were brutal betrayals that crushed me. But I am relentlessly happy.

Yes, of course, there was pain and there was misery at times during my life. The death of my pets was particularly hard. I had appropriate emotional reaction to my crises, but I then got on with things and through it all I revert to my default position of joy with life. And it’s never been stronger than my life here in the tranquil solitude I enjoy on Gabriola.

When I moved here, I started wishing that I’d moved here much earlier in my life, but now I feel grateful for having moved here when I did. It was a good response to my breakdown; post-recovery, everything has been ideal.

I was socialized to always thank people for gifts given, and that most of the gifts I’d receive would be verbal. Well, who am I to thank for how good I feel all the time? I think the Big Guy. Now with almost ten years with Dr Shoja, I realize that God was my therapist for all those lonely years. I would talk to Him all the time. Why not? I knew what he stood for and I liked what he taught. What I didn’t like was the Catholic church.

I wasn’t a person who went running to Him when things went wrong. What motivated most all of my conversations was gratitude and a need for a sounding board. I built a theatre into a large empty part of the civic arts centre where I lived. It cost the municipality and the art centre absolutely nothing. I got paid and built it by getting grants and doing fundraising. As the builder and then manager of the theatre, I reported to the director of the arts centre, and after just a few months after opening the theatre, the director fired me. 

After a few weeks, I got his job. The board of the centre fired him. But in between was pure hell. I think I had two migraines, and that hat had never happened before, but through it all, I had this ‘person’ to talk to. Otherwise, I would have gone through it alone. So, I still talk to him. It’s a habit. I like having someone to thank for how good I feel. That’s what I like. No church. No fees. No ceremony. All it means to the outside world is that I hope I present as moral, ethical. If there was a bumper sticker made about me, it would say: Moves Worms. Were it not for this relationship with The Man I would feel bereft. 

One of the toughest periods for me with Dr. Shoja was the first time that she used the word, ‘neglect.’ For very many months thereafter, I could not stop saying, “I don’t want to be that guy.”  I knew it was fair for her to use that label. She’s a psychiatrist. It’s clinical to her. But I hated it.

I couldn’t stand that the Tyrell’s actions were why I was feeling so hurt and sad after my breakdown. I was crying a lot, and I kept thinking that they “got off Scot-free” (whatever that means). It was torture and I was here on Gabe by myself most of the time, so I’d obsess on this sickening thing that I was, this word that I hated. The weirdest part of all my angst was knowing that she was just using a word that I hadn’t used, but it was right, I knew it, and I’d always known it. But then, I got on with living, back to talking to The Man because I feel so good.

•

We’re back to sunshine and a cool morning. It’s a mixed bag in the coming week, but no sub-zero temperatures and no snow are in the forecast. It’s My Day, so self-indulgence is the rule of the day. I’ll watch some Olympics, I’ll read, we’ll walk, and tonight will be like almost every other evening of the season.

Bacon

Friday was a beautiful day, if slightly cooler than the rest of the week. Our walk was heavenly. I walked ahead of the group with Sheba to separate myself from all the talking because I love experiencing tranquility as we walk. She is such a good dog! Whenever I stop to take a photo, she waits with me.

We walked for an hour and a half, and when it was over, I wanted to walk some more but my foot was telling me No! So, we came home and I Zoomed with dear friend, David, who called from London. We talk every week. And then I got busy with domestic duties. I did laundry, built up the fire, went outside to prune all the Hydrangeas (slightly late in the season), did the recycling sorting and bagging, and I vacuumed everywhere (because I hadn’t vacuumed since yesterday). That was a joke. I must vacuum every day, or we’ll get buried in Fir needles.

I stopped eating pork decades ago. I love pigs and cannot eat them. But since moving here, I bought two hams from Eoin and François. I couldn’t believe I did it, but I’ve always believed in guidelines over rules, and so it wasn’t moral collapse on my part. I have never regretted what I did, but I surprised myself. Well, yesterday I bought some bacon.

I believe it’s locally made bacon. The packaging is by Nester’s. I bought it because it is more meat than fat. In fact, there’s very little fat, and it’s very thick so I am going to make lardons to keep for salads. But it positively thrilled me to make and eat a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich yesterday. They, and clubhouse sandwiches, were a staple of my youth and so it was wonderful to enjoy one again. It brought back memories of eating them in sunshine in our backyard when I was a young teen.

Finally, mid-afternoon, I was ready to submit myself to the chaise to read. But after just two chapters, I was ready to nap. I was quite tired from my walk and doing all my chores. However, napping wasn’t going to happen. First Bruce called and we Facetimed for quite a while, and then Her Highness wanted to walk. We’d had a great, long morning walk, so we went for a short walk at Rollo Park and then came home in time to watch the opening ceremonies of the Olympics.

And what a fucking disaster that was! Watching the Olympic opening on the CBC was, perhaps, my worst experience watching television. It was ads interspersed with shots of the opening. It was pure torture to watch. I couldn’t stand it, so I watched a movie instead. Unfortunately, I the part where Mariah Carey was singing was uninterrupted with ads. What? Are there are no great Italian singers? What a shit show! Not the opening, but the CBC coverage. And the commentators! Holy crap they were insipid.

The rain is back. It’s light rain this morning, so we’ll walk without getting soaked, and for the rest of the day, I will putter and read. Last night I decided that if we get no snow this month, I will fill the hot tub next month because I miss soaking in hot water in the mornings and enjoying the sounds and fragrances of my beloved island. 

Dragonfly wings.