Know Thyself

I’m kind of overwhelmed by the amount of work needing doing at Pinecone Park! I had to water all the beds before I could get to weed whacking and planting. Plus, I had to walk Her Highness, but I love our morning walks. At this time of year, I can walk early knowing that I’m unlikely to run into anyone.

We walked bright and early, and then I came home to get to work. First, I did some weed whacking and then, while the whacker battery recharged, I got busy with watering the beds. That pattern continued until all the beds were well watered. And then endless raking. It’s pure joy to be outside and working on beautifying P.P. I loved every second of work yesterday.

It’s also joyful to know that rain is coming. It’s shocking to discover, after I think that I have done such a good job of watering all my beds, how shallow the wet soil is. Mere centimetres deep, the soil is bone dry.

Our walk was lovely, and I like working in the yard and garden, but it’ not easy for this old man. When I weed whack, my arms and hands are very shaky for about half an hour afterwards. It’s difficult to do things with my hands. Luckily, watering only requires squeezing a handle. Watering in zen-like compared to weed whacking, but the whacking is vastly improving the look of Pinecone Park!

When I stopped to feed lunch to the brood and to have my own meal, it was 11:30 and I was extremely pleased with my progress. I’d cleared the weeds on just under half of the backyard weed fields and watered all the backyard beds. After lunch, when I went back to it, I began by watering the edible garden and the front bed and the fruit trees, and then the battery was ready for me to go back to whacking. 

At 14:30, I took a break. I’d finished all the raking where I’d whacked, so while the battery recharged, I took Her Highness for our afternoon walk. Then I came home to whack one more section of the yard calling it quits for the day. I’ll continue today. I’ll finish the whacking and raking I reckon, and then I’ll be toting all the detritus to the back forty. 

After that, all the essential work is done, except for planting the remainder of my new babies into the beds. Then I’ll start fertilizing everything before the rains come on Friday and Saturday. I hope!

I’m amazed by how good the yard looks even though it’s a field of weeds. When it’s all whacked, it looks clean and cared for, and it makes for a green carpet (with gaps), making the gardens stand out much better. I was thrilled by how much work I got done yesterday, and I look forward

And now, it’s going to be easy to maintain. I’m really going to enjoy attending to little details here and there that will beautify the beds even more. Some pruning, cleaning the few remaining beds I haven’t yet cleared of cones and needles, fixing the fence around the Apple tree, and putting pebbles around some of the trees and vines to reduce evaporation.

Pinecone Park is an ideal adult playground (see below).

•

Last night, I asked AI if I was considered mentally ill due to my CPTSD and FND diagnoses. I got an interesting response.

“No. … having Complex PTSD (CPTSD) and Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) … means that your central nervous system is experiencing severe dysregulation.

“Medical diagnostic manuals classify these conditions under psychiatric, trauma-related, or somatic categories … modern neuroscience views them as brain-based, physiological disorders of the nervous system…. The functioning and communication lines between your brain and body are altered.

“CPTSD and FND are deeply intertwined. Prolonged inescapable trauma (CPTSD) keeps your brain in a permanent survival mode (fight-or-flight). Over time, this intense, chronic neurological stress ‘spills over’ into physical symptoms, causing the brain to misfire signals to the body (FND).

I’m glad to know that I’m not mentally ill, and I better understand myself after reading this. There was also a section on how both conditions are classified. Here’s all of it, but it’s the last sentence that I loved! It was such an concise and understandable description of what FND is.

“CPTSD is classified as a severe and trauma-related disorder by the World Health Organization’s IDC-11. An overwhelmed nervous system stuck in a persistent state of hyperarousal and survival threat.

“FND is classified under ‘Somatic Symptom’ or ‘Conversion’ disorder in the psychiatric DSM manual. A neuro-circuitry disorder sitting directly at the intersection of neurology and psychiatry.”

•

Connie’s niece, my ‘cousin’ Ann, lived in Athens, and while she was there, all my birthday and Christmas presents were things she would get in the museum gift shop. The best gift I ever got was a replica of the head of a young man who was looking down. It was the greatest thing I’d ever owned. 

I became obsessed with Greek history—Greek artistic, judicial and cultural history, not about war. So, off I went to visit the country. Top of my list of things to see was the pass of Thermopylae. There is absolutely nothing there. It was on the map, but we were on a road with a railing, and it was barren rock all around us. It was impossible to stop, but I saw a road sign at one point naming the pass.

It was such a disappointment. I took Latin. I’d translated text about Thermopylae often in my studies. It was famous because a small Greek army held off an invading Persian army. It was a moral victory; the Greeks were eventually overtaken. I thought the site would be a big deal in Greece and that there’d be a park with historical markers and all that, but no. There was nothing at all there.

We kept going and went to Delphi. I’d seen billions of images of the statuary and pieces of architecture. I felt that I was going to a holy place of history when we arrived to walk in blisteringly hot air.

I had read, in a creditable source, that the oracles spoke gibberish. The Oracles were women serving as high priestesses in the Temple of Apollo. They were elected to the position and were women, usually over fifty years of age. 

History says great leaders sought the oracle’s advice before going into battle or when considering a war. History also says that the oracle would go into a fissure in the earth, a grotto, and inhale fumes coming up through a vent, and that sent her into a trance.

She would then leave the grotto and go to the priests to ‘deliver messages from Apollo,’ and then the priests would explain what Appollo said. I read a lot about Greece, and many legends and records include a visit to the oracle. That led to reading a lot about these priestesses.

The historical myth about the oracles is that they were intoxicated by the fumes they inhaled and spoke gibberish to the priests. The priests then interpreted the gibberish to speak for Apollo. Contemporary scholars believe that the historical record proves that the oracles were lucid and respected advisors.

I took a tour in Delphi so that I could hear what they said about the oracle. In her presentation to us about the Temple, the guide mentioned the oracle and all she said about her was that she served in the temple and was the high priestess. So, when we got to our next presentation site, during our walkabout time after her presentation, I asked her what she thought. Was the oracle a stoned, gibberish speaking woman, or a wise advisor?

It was like talking to Barbie. Barbie as a hockey player, deflecting my every question, like a skilled goalie. She was frozen in her professional role and would not go off script. I was crushed. Then Barbi turned to point out some text on the temple wall to our group and redeemed herself in my eyes.

It was two short words up high on the wall, and she spoke the words we were looking at in Greek. Then she told us that in English the words mean, ‘know thyself.’ And I had a moment when she said that.

 

When I quit the Catholic church, I thought all religion was hooey. But part of me was sad to leave. I’d embraced the church. I sang in the choir (ahem, I was a soloist), acted in church plays, went to Catholic camp, and made friends. There were lots of Catholic things to do, but I when I realized I was gay I knew that I had to leave. Besides, to the church I was a bastard. And my birth mother was a venal sinner for having me. I was team gay bastard, so I left the church.

I was twelve when I invented my new faith: the Church of Science. I have never met another member of this church, so although there may be other members out there living and worshipping, I feel that I invented this church. I took my Catholic hierarchical structure of faith, from pope to parish priest, plus their heavenly hierarchy, and I distributed these titles of faith to the cosmos of great scientists , both historical and contemporary, and added my personal favourites (and there are a lot of them).

And …

I made my own set of commandments. They’ve never been written down; they exist only in my memory. One is: ‘Never be where I’m not wanted.’ Another one, added to my commandment list long before the phrase became part of US politics, is: ‘Ask, don’t tell.’ And another: ‘Never say should.’

I don’t remember how I learned about this saying. It was just there, in my head, when I first began to become wary of people no matter how they presented. Early on, I learned about violence. I experienced it. And I saw it on TV, read about it in literature and history, saw it in movies and play, and in the playground. I saw conflict everywhere, and I knew that it could erupt in those who seemed least likely to be violent. In my long life, I have never been violent. I respect all life and never intentionally kill living things (except mosquitoes).

I decided that in the Church of Science, focus is on the self. In my church, you, me, we—everyone is God of our own world. I came to believe that if you focused on understanding yourself and your moral and societal responsibilities that there would be far less violence. And so, my first commandment became: Know thyself.

I was deeply moved to see those words at Delphi. Thoughts of Ann’s influence on me, the boy’s head sculpture, Delphi’s beauty and significance, the heat, it all got to me. I felt immensely proud that my first commandment was carved in the Temple of Apollo in Delphi.

And then Barbie led a Q & A. And she was great off-script. 

BEFORE

As it was when I arrived.

I arrived in October 2017. This is the backyard in 2018. The fence is up
and all the mechanical crap and construction detritus are gone from the yard.

Both the front and back yard had no soil. It was sheet
sandstone with years of needles and cones on top, and
covered in weeds and moss.

2018 putting soil down in the front yard.

After adding soil to the backyard, I planted grass which lasted
two months and then died because I wouldn't water the lawns.

AFTER

The weed feels have been trimmed and it makes all the plants and beds
pop out as you take in the view at P.P.

Done in the foreground, not in the back. I'll do that section today.

Laburnum.

This section show you what leaving the weeds to grow looks like.

P.P. is a jungle now. Compare this to the shot above
when the yard was cleaned of all the crap left by the
previous owners, but void of plants.

You can't even see the fence anymore.

National Stuttering Acceptance Week

 

It’s National Stuttering Acceptance Week. My video is being circulated in SPACE initiatives during the week, along with similar videos of several other people who stutter using the same script. I love hearing the variety of my fellow stutterers speech.

Monday was clear, bright and hot. Too hot for me. Working in the yard was quite tiring because of all the bending over and the heat. I got several plants into the garden, and I did a lot of cleaning up of the beds under the trees in the backyard, but I quit early, too pooped to pant.

The morning was taken up with a long walk with our friends, and my Zoom meeting with other STAMMA support group meetings. Then we had lunch and then I did three hours of work before calling it quits and taking Her Highness for our afternoon walk.

The weather is predicted to change today. We may, if we’re lucky, get a brief shower later in the day. Wednesday and Thursday are likely to be cloudy and Friday and Saturday are supposed to be wet. We are all praying for rain on the island, so I hope it pours for those two days.

Today, I must stay home in case my Tezspire arrives, so I will focus on weed whacking and raking up the bales of sliced weeds. I also hope to get some more plants into the ground, but the bending over is very hard on my ancient back. It’s a beautiful bright sunny day again, so I will water all the beds today as well. And if I get all the work done that I hope to do, I will earn my time on the chaise this evening. Tomorrow, when it’s cloudy, I must address my SPACE homework.

Opalized turtle shell.

Front Yard: Lookin' Good!

 The sky quickly cleared yesterday morning, making my morning spa a joy and our morning walk inspiring. It was My Day; nothing could get to me yesterday. I won’t allow myself any stress on My Days.

When we got home, I immediately raked the driveway. Man-oh-man it makes Pinecone Park look good to be rid of the zillions of little cone turds that litter the yard. They really make the place look untidy. Next up was feeding the brood their lunch (11:00). I wanted to go to Silva Bay for lunch because the Firetruck Grill is open as of this weekend, but it would take up too much of my day. Instead, I had a sandwich and then got back to work tidying up inside the fences that surround my front yard trees. It’s awful work because I have cut holes in the fencing so that I can reach in, but they are full of little metal barbs that have me constantly pricking myself and bleeding. 

After lunch, it was time to get back to work. I fetched the barrow to collect all the detritus that I’d raked up on the driveway and all the weeds pulled from under the trees and inside their protective fences. As the front yard was looking so good, I decided putting the plants I bought to bed could wait. I decided to clean up the front bed and to clean the walkway from the driveway to the front door and the front porch.

When I was done, the front yard filled me with pride of accomplishment. It’s rough landscaping, all weeds where there might be lawn, but it’s tidy and the front bed has never looked as good as it does now. It felt so, so good to be working and to have a far more attractive front yard. 

I only weed whacked the part of the front yard people can see from the street, and it’s what I see out my big front window. I left over half the yard wild for the bees. I may get to it once the backyard work is done, but that is a long way off and all the weeds will likely die soon from lack of water. Yesterday, my work mojo was most definitely back. I look forward to continuing the work today and this week.

At 13:00, I took a break. My back gets sore from all the bending over weeding and tilling the garden bed. It felt great to rest, but it also felt very, very good to get back to work after a brief respite. When I was done toting all the crap from weeding the front bed and raking the driveway to the rear forty, I decided to carry on and do something I’ve long wanted to do: I enlarged the fence protecting the Italian Plumb tree. Last week, a deer tore off a branch off the tree, and it seriously pissed me off. These trees and plants are my babies! Now it has room to grow and still be safely behind the fence. Today, my plan is to do the same for the Apple tree in the front yard.

At 15:00, I was done. I had a huge and freezing cold Diet Coke. Yum! Next up was taking Her Highness for our afternoon walk. I was done for the day with work, so after our walk we went into the village to get some dinner supplies before coming home to rest for the remainder of the day. I had another spa, and then we all had dinner and then I watched a movie.

This is what happens when I get an iPhone. Last week when I had two days of manic joy working in the yard, I walked 14,000 steps on one of the days, and 16,000 on the other. Yesterday, I walked 13,000. I’m chuffed to realize that working in the yard gives me lots of exercise. 

Climbing onto the chaise after a good day’s work is just the best feeling. Earned pleasure time is so wonderfully guilt-free. And today I get to do more.

•

I really loved yesterday, cleaning up the front yard. I went out with a plan that got blown off when I decided to clean up the front yard bed and expand the plumb tree fencing. It is so, so satisfying to have something to do. When I came here, I eradicated nature in the backyard, leaving some of Mother’s flora integrated into the gardens. Now, it’s just maintenance. When the plants I have go in, the garden will be pretty much full and complete. I’m grateful for having something constructive to do, and so happy that it yields such pride and pleasure.

I still must walk Her Highness, and water the beds and trees, so progress on cleaning up the yard and begs is slow. But to rid the yard of Sheba souvenirs, cones, and branches, I must first weed-whack. However, the battery of my whacker yields fifteen minutes of whacking per charge. So, I whack, then I weed; it’s back and forth between the two activities all day. This pattern is imposed by the battery, but it’s ideal because I’m on my knees or bending over when I’m gardening, but I’m standing when I’m whacking. (Serious double-entendre!) Henceforth, I’m going to maintain a twenty-minute limit on one activity policy at Pinecone Park. Learned from a battery!

•

When I lived on Hornby Street, which is where I was when I decided to move here, I would pile my furniture in as little space as I could. I left the dining room table up to eat on; I pushed it against a wall. I jammed everything together so that I could use my entire living room and half of my dining room as a studio. 

I built thirteen dresses of paper and plastic food plates, and cups, marbles, leaves, and more, but mostly of manipulated paper. I built each one on a mannequin. I shared my apartment with thirteen women. When I’d have friends over, I’d push my girls close together in two rows against one wall, and it gave me lots of space for entertaining. I loved having my close friends over to meet the girls.

It was always like that. Using my home as a workshop. Then I move here, and I spend a lot of money on rebuilding a collapsed building into a huge studio, with a grand table and a fireplace! And I’ve never really used it for making a craft project. It makes me sad. I have now, what I wanted all my life. But I don’t use it. I store my outdoor furniture in it over Winter. 

I did a few things to donate to local auctions, but my heart was not into crafts anymore. I loved doing plays, exhibitions, presenting lectures. I did so many things the arts, including in the end, at Emily Carr U. But that part of me died when my neurological disorder set-in. I felt I had neither the passion, nor the endurance to do a project. I was focused on life with seizures and very poor speech—sometimes, no speech.

The last thing I want to do, is something that draws attention to me. No thank-you! Instead, I landscaped and made a yard and garden. A yard, this year, is 70 cm high. But all my beds need work. I’ve done the first. Here I go on the backyard. 

While I fill the gaps in the beds with all my new babies, the jungle shall go on. But once the beds are done, I’m going back to whackin’. But not all the yard, only in three small sections. 

By the time I finish with the backyard clean-up, the wood will arrive. I’m going to stack some layers, I think, and then, perhaps, get someone in to do the rest following my stacking model. I’m rather addicted to labour when the weather is fine, which it has been since Spring 24 (if a little dry). But not when the cold weather sets in.

•

Today, we walk with our friends and then I come home to Zoom with my fellow STAMMA support group leaders. Then it’s back to work on the yard and garden beds. Woo hoo!

Clean driveway, nice flat green carpet in front of the house.
Edible garden nice and green

Dwarf Lilac (in bloom left), Italian Plum (Second from left), Flame Maple
(closest to the house) Apple (right). All from tiny twigs, tiny trees that no one
wanted at a great price. They know I love them. 

The blue blossoms of my Paulonia tree.This is the first time.
This tree came from a sucker in a neighbour's yard. It's now
as high as the roof of the house.

The front bed. You could not see soil before I cleaned it up.
Years of needles are gone. This was a tough garden to create.
Burning sun and in an unfenced part of my yard, so all the
plants must be deer-proof.

Two years ago, I created beds around the base of trees. This is one.

This is the other.

This is one of two beds under three large trees. It only gets morning
sun. These poor plants lose all their water to the trees if I am not diligent,
especially during the months-long summer drought season.

This is the other garden bed under the trees.

That's my fucking Butterbur, baby!

This is the finest display on the Laburnum. I get discounts on things at
the nursery that aren't visually appealing. This is one of many 'unloveables' I have.

This is the bed off the courtyard (cement, low right), The path
goes to the rear-forty where I dump my garden waste.

These plants, and two more, await permanent homes.
They are to fill holes in the beds.

The Fern Garden is looking resplendent.

Look at the colour of those shiny plumb-coloured leaves.
They will slowly turn green, but I love it when they are this
colour under a similarly coloured Japanese Maple.

SPACE Work and Watering

Friday was a very slow day. We walked of course, and the only work that I did was to water most of the garden beds. I did all those I didn’t do on Friday on Saturday morning after our morning walk. It was cloudy on both days, and rain is in the forecast for the coming week. THANK GOD!!!

I read and did work for SPACE. I’m perhaps at my best with SPACE doing writing and editing, and there were lots of both to do on Friday. And although I love reading, I was sad to be rapidly approaching the end of my last Kate Atkinson book about P.I. Jackson Brodie. However, I have her book, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, to read.

I shopped a little on both days, but little was accomplished in the way of work in the yard and gardens on Friday. It’s become rather chilly again. It was 11° when we went out for our morning walk on both mornings, and it’s the sunshine that gets me into high gear for yard and garden work.

Saturday, after I finished watering all the garden beds, I went to Sandy’s place. She’s my neighbour and she’s becoming a regular lunch date for me. We go to the Surf. On Saturday, she had a plant sale, so off I went and I came home with some good plants to help fill the blank spaces in my beds. I like chaotic beds, chock full of plants. Sandy likes space between plants and order. 

The sun came out in the afternoon, but did I do work? No. I did not, and I have over twenty plants to put into the garden. Perhaps today, my mojo will return and I’ll get at least some of them into the beds. Yesterday, I’ve no idea why, but I just couldn’t muster the drive to work. Sigh. But we had great walks and I finished my book.

Late in the afternoon, my mojo returned, but it was too late in the day to get much done. However, the front yard is whacked. The weeds were thirty centimetres tall or more, so Pinecone Park looks far more cared for now when it is viewed from the street. I have plans for more work today.

•

Sadly, the rain predicted for the coming week is gone from the forecast. Damn! The good news in the weather is that it’s going to be sunny but not hot. The highs will be in the high teens or 20°, and that’s a lovely and comfortable temperature zone.

My plan is to get some of the very many plants that I’ve purchased recently into the garden today. It’s cloudy this morning, and 10°. It’s chilly in the house, and because it’s My Day, I’m going to light the fire to warm things up a little after I post this morning. My Day is for self-indulgence.

I don’t see Dr. S. this week, but I do next week, and I plan to go back to once a month again. I feel stable now, but speech is very definitely much harder now than in was prior to the end of March. But I am not complaining because I rarely have seizures during these heavenly endless days alone.

But Beth is coming this Summer, and Steve, and Dwight has been ruminating on coming to visit. And in August, I go do Di’s for Ashlee’s wedding. I’m looking forward to all my visits with friends.