Friday, March 29, 2019

Leaving Home

It’s been a stunning day; tomorrow will be as well. I’ve done little all day except to prepare this place for my departure. I leave tomorrow for Vancouver for three whirlwind days; I come home late Monday. I’m going to see several friends, do a little shopping and see Dr. Shoja, whom I haven’t seen in six months.
In advance of visiting her, I’ve been pondering things and I realize that Chris.1, pre-collapse me, lived for attention. ‘He’ put on shows in galleries and on stages, dressed ‘himself’ to be noticed, did public speaking, led workshops, taught and wrote plays and books. I was that person all my life until April 9, 2016. 
Chris.2, my post-collapse self, has turned the tables. I no longer want attention; I do nothing, no projects, to seek it. Plus, I’ve run away to an island of fellow escapists.
I’m glad I will have a beautiful morning to fly through tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to my visits with friends. 
I’ll post again Tuesday.

Thursday, March 28, 2019


I loafed the entire sunny day away yesterday. I puttered around the house happy to have no pressing tasks at hand. The message I was receiving from my body yesterday was: “Be at one with the couch.”
The highlight of my day was glancing out the window and catching a glimpse of a row of shoots rising through the dirt in one of my new raised beds. It’s my radishes! They are above ground—well, several of them. I’m as happy as a new father.
But I’m unhappy with my spa and my capacity to manage it; the water has become cloudy again. I’m going to continue to use it because it’s not scary cloudy; I just won’t invite others to use it and I’ll drain it and leave it empty until I fill it again for summer. I’m thinking I may only use it in summer henceforth; it’s big, mechanically complex and expensive like the well/cistern/pump, and I’m not tehnically inclined.
Today is lovely again. I’ve duties to attend to, but I’m going to read for a while. The day is unfolding as did yesterday.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

The Trellis and Me

I was in sweat pants, looking like I’d been hired as a background performer for Trailer Park Boys,  when Gary arrived with a tanker full of water. It was 7:30 am and I had to climb a ladder and onto the slimy cistern top, unscrew its cover and hold the faucet whilst the water flowed. It was cold and slippery; I could hardly wait to get down. My hands were freezing. 
But I couldn’t get down and I was too proud to call Gary for help. The ladder was unsteady; it slid on the slime on the round side of the cistern. (Great assonance, eh? I’m a poet!) I was worried about how my decent would end, but I got down with only a minor gash on my arm.
You’ve no idea how good it felt afterwards; I went into the house and heard water flowing into my hot water tank. I tried taps; I flushed toilets.
Al, the hydrologist, was due at 9:30 but I called him and put him off because I could hear water from the well filling the cistern when I turned on the breakers. I concluded the cistern’s floater switch was the reason my cistern failed because when I touched it, it fell downwards and water started flwoing into the cistern. Al agreed with my conclusion and didn’t come by (saving me money). I am smarter after every crisis.
With my water back under control, Her Highness and I went for a walk and as we came home, the sun came out. I went to work on my pea and bean trellis; it’s looking fab-u-lous (see above). I love the ‘personality’ it and the cold frames give to my garden in which nothing is growing yet. They give evidence of loving hands at work.   

Above shows progression of my self-portrait (as a person with seizures). It’s what I did most of the day yesterday, but I’m finding it challenging to draw with one eye and no gasses. (Two months to surgery!)
Do you want to feel joyous and extremely proud to be Canadian? Do you want to see stunning northern imagery and hear a chorus of throat singing? Watch Ukiuq by the Jerry Cans from Uqaluit, in Nunavut. I love the song and I’m proud to love so unique a Canadian song. This is how to achieve reconciliation. 
Today has dawned clear. It’s a nice to have no work pressing. I’ve done all the yard work I want to do. I’m waiting for it to warm up a little before planting my peas and beans. My only goal is to finish my self-portrait. I’m not sure what I want to do with the rest.