Thursday, February 28, 2019

Turdeau (that's not a spelling mistake)

Jody Wilson-Raybould just announced her candidacy for Prime Minister. She did so in the form of an account of the “political interference” she experienced as Minister of Justice from her colleagues in her own political party.
She slaughtered her colleagues whilst, at the same time, reminding everyone of her indigenous principals. I watched the whole thing live-streamed, and was amazed.
She’s positioned herself as a pinnacle of integrity; anyone against her will be aligned with a position of “power no matter what the cost.”
One person versus the Liberal party and government; it’s an extraordinary turn of events. He says; she says. She calls herself a “truth-teller;” his every utterance is obfuscation.
The Liberals, now, have no choice: If they want to win the next election: Trudeau will have to go and you-know-who is his ideal replacement. She’s the only one who can save the party, its credibility and its majority in the House.
The weather today looks more promising than yesterday. Yesterday about 100 flakes of snow fell on my property.
But it doesn’t really matter what the weather is. I have lots to do to keep me busy and engaged. (The cookies I made yesterday are delicious.) Yesterday’s big accomplishment was assembling the lush-ish red leather recliner in my office/kitchen. (It affords me a very comfortable way to watch movies on my computer.)
Although it’s -1°, there’s sunshine on the trees and so I’ll dress warmly and work in the yard. Doing work out there is terribly practical because I don’t walk Her Highness; I just open the gate and let her wander next door to play with their free-range dog. 
I’m really happy about this new habit of letting Sheba out to wander and not taking her for a walk. Last summer I found the daily watering of the gardens to be terribly tedious. It took forever. Then I’d have to walk Sheba and the two tasks seemed to take half the day.
Now, though, I realize I can let her roam whilst I attend to the garden. This summer is going to be wonderful! I’ve a much better attitude about the work it takes to keep this place looking fine. And that’s a good thing because I think vegetable gardens can be demanding.
Bring it on!

Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Not Sunny as Predicted

Tuesday began early. 
Darrel was here just after 7:00 am to pick up the Deer carcass. Then, unable to face the cold until the sunshine filled the yard, I thoroughly cleaned up and washed the cat’s porch. It felt good to clean the porch after a winter’s use. The sound of birdsong made the work pleasant; the birds sounded as happy as I am to have sunlight.
I swept the whole back deck and courtyard once the sun was in the yard. It took a long time. And then began the raking and burning. It will take much of the week to clean up the yard. It’s a mess from the storms, Sheba digging and the work done by the arborists. Plus, there were a ton of Sheba souvenirs to pick up. 
But I made a really great start! Although the air was cold, the sun was warm on my body. I loved that! And I played beautiful choral music on my outdoor speaker.
I’m going on a dog walk this morning and when I get back I’m going back to bake. It’s too cold and cloudy to do yard work today (in spite of the prediction for sunshine). Tomorrow’s supposed to suck as well so I’m going to do work indoors.
I’ve been on a bit of a work jag of late. I’m happy about that. It’s come from the energy of sunshine, I reckon. However, on Friday we’re supposed to return to a week of sunshine and I’ll get more yard work done then.
Dwight cancelled his visit; he’ll come sometime in March instead. 
Today’s thrills will be reading what Michael Cohen reveals in Washington and Jody Wilson-Raybould says in Ottawa.

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Burying Bambi

It was freezing cold in the house when I got up. It was -5° outside when I fetched wood for the fire this morning. Weather pundits say this is shaping up to be the coldest February here on record. But it is bright and sunny and will be for another week..
Yesterday (Monday) began with a sparkling doggie walk. Then, I was thrilled to come home knowing I'd be cleaning up the yard. It’s such a lovely change to be outdoors.   
I made a list of things I want to do: Clean the back porch; the cats have destroyed it. Rake the front lawn; it’s covered in storm detritus. Get rid of the huge branch that fell in the vegetable garden. Sweep the courtyard—storm detritus again. Remove the wood from the downed trees from the yard and stack it in the shed. Rake the back yard and pick up the dog souvenirs. And finally: Take the recycling to GIRO.
I decided to start with the front yard. I got my tools together, went onto the lawn and was horrified by what I saw. Tears flowed immediately.
In a corner of my yard, I have a particularly lovely little tree with wide wispy branches, and under it, curled up, looking as cute and cozy as a picture postcard, was a little Deer—stone cold dead. I must have curled up to go to sleep under the tree and died in the night cold. 
I just love animals, so I’m bawling all over again this morning from writing and thinking about that precious little creature. It is so, so incredibly beautiful in it’s gentle posture. I did not, and will not, take a photo. It feels wrong to do so.
What am I to do with a Deer carcass? I asked Patsy and she referred me to the RCMP, so I called their station and left a message and then, mid-afternoon, an officer came by. He was very complimentary about the work I’ve done on my house and he told me to either bury the carcass or remove it to a location where the Eagles, Vultures and Ravens could see it. I could barely speak, but I got key words out and didn’t cry. 
I called Darrell and he came by this morning to help me move the carcass. I’ve been crying over the poor thing all morning and it was tough dealing with the body. I’m such a pussy! Darrell, bless him, hugged me twice because, I think, he could hear my heartbreak in my voice.
Darrell is such a prince! I feel blessed to know him. He's bringing by a splitter so I can breakup the rounds of logs left by the arborists who felled the trees in my yard.
I won’t walk Her Highness today. She’ll spend her day exploring my neighbour’s yards while I do yard work (in the freezing cold—remember, I am a pussy); my lot plus those of my neighbours gives her two acres of land to explore. (She comes when she’s called.)
I love doing yard work, even in this cold. I burn the storm detritus in the incinerator. To discard it all in the Federal land would create a huge bunker over just a couple of years, so I just discard that big limbs in the forest and incinerate as much as I can.
I’m rewarded by the tidiness that emerges as I work. Today, I’ll work in the backyard; there isa lot to do. Besides cleaning up several cubic meters of fallen wood bits and pinecones, I’ve big holes to dig to re-locate my Apple trees. I’ll be moving the trees once the tree canopy is trimmed back next week, but the holes can be done now.

Monday, February 25, 2019


I am through with seizures. (My last one was January 11th.)
A couple of times with DR here, I’ve “hit a wall.” I’ve suddenly been unable to speak at all. But … after about thirty seconds I’ve regained my (halting) speech. When it happened the second time, I realized: “That might have been the vestige of a seizure.”
Over the past thirty-three months, my seizures have changed from violent physical exertions to the mild, barely discernable interruptions that I experienced with DR. I truly believe I’m over them—perhaps not completely and forever. I may seize again during a real-life crisis, but they are gone from my day-to-day life. Amen!
I’ve been‘high” ever since realizing and accepting the change for the better. I can go to movies, now, and concerts; I can go swimming,no longer worry any about losing my driver’s license and I don’t have to warn people when I go to meetings with strangers. It’s a huge change and an enormous relief.
But it’s also weird—like waking from a bad dream. 
I don’t reallyneed to live here any more; it was to reduce the number of seizures that I moved here. I’m flush with a sense of rebirth. I feel rushes of desire to move again, to where there are more people. The world is available again; the thought of a ferry ride or being in an airplane is less frightening. 
But I’m not going to move. I’ll do nothing rash. I’ll stay put and get used to being a person who doesn’t have seizures just like I got used to having them. (The downside of my acceptance of my seizures over the past three years is that I have to make another “shift” in my understanding of who I am. I don’t find it easy to sustain these “shifts” in states of being.)
Saturday was easy. DR and I went to Drumbegfor a nice walk and then to the village for lunch. After lunch, we chilled and played Cribbage until almost six o’clock. After that, it was Happy Hour, dinner and early to bed. I loved playing Crib!
Sunday I went for the community dog walk. It was sunny and warm(ish) and I loved it. It was the nicest walk in months. Right after I got home, DR left and I did naught for the rest of the day. Then I watched the Oscars which was, for me, a series of disappointments in fancy dress (except for the win by Olivia Coleman).
It disgusted me to see the two remaining members of Queen sitting back, looking cold and not clapping whilst we heard an Oscar winner from their movie praising Freddie Mercury in his acceptance speech. 
Favourite moment: An Oscar winner for the film Period. End of Sentencesaying, “I can’t believe a film about menstruation won an Oscar!”
It’s still cold outside but it’s going to be sunny today and for the next week. This week’s dog walks will be pleasant—I think I’ll try to avoid walking with the military man. I’ll spend the week casually cleaning up the yard. 
Dwight may visit at the end of the week. Paula is coming the week after that. These visits will be wonderful given that I’ve no concern about seizing. Man-oh-man I’m happy that phase of my life is over.