Monday - Wednesday

Monday:
Monday was a good day, not only because of the incredible sunshine and warmth, but because having started these morning fitness classes (for seniors) is reminiscent of going to school. The class starts at 9:15, so I am out the door a little after 8:30 am, and at that time of the morning, the air smells so good the birdsong is so bright and there is hardly anyone on the streets. And although I cannot say I like the class, I know it is good for me and I love the leisurely walk home in the heat.

Also, although I find it very hard to believe, after only one week of classes, I can see results—there is definition in some parts of my arms and chest that was not there before and my posture is improved.

When I began going to fitness classes around 1980 and I started by going to classes at the local Community Centre. I progressed to private clubs that offered more classes and greater diversity of activities. I stayed with the classes until around 2000, but then I stopped.

Now I am back at the Community Centre and I couldn't be happier. It is so very much more relaxed, human and fun at the centres whereas at the private clubs you get overexposed to all that is revolting about testosterone.

Tuesday:
"How was your surgery?" The lovely woman asking me the question was a resident assisting my pulmonologist, Dr. Dorscheid. I told her that she must have the wrong file and gave her my name.

"No, it says here that Dr. Mann recommends some surgery and I can see the CT scan here that he ordered. Do you remember getting the scan?" Of course I did, I have breathing not cognitive problems doctor, but I have had no surgery.

That was how I found out I appear to be headed for some surgery inside my head to help my breathing. APparently something went wrong with communications, so Dr. Dorscheid will be contacting Dr. Mann to reignite my case.

I spent all day in an altered state. I can't stand the thought of surgery but my every experience with it has been so amazingly positive: I had a dead arm revived, I had my breathing hugely improved with surgery almost 30 years ago, I had a finger reattached, etc., so if it is true and I am offered a surgical solution, I know I will take it.

Wednesday:
I began writing for Opus Framing & Art Supplies in 1986. I invented their newsletter and have been writing its editorial ever since. It has won awards for cultural journalism and won me awards for my service to the local arts community. The job changed my life.

Yesterday, I got an email from my boss there, Scott, inviting me to lunch. We often have lunches, but it has been a while. We were going back and forth trying to find a date that worked for both of us and it wasn't being easy and because it was him who was so eager to get together, I got suspicious—it is usually me wanting to get together and it was always because I wanted something.

So I wrote back: "If its about the cheque, just mail it. If it's about firing me, just call me." Well he didn't call, he wrote back amazed at my prescience. My contract—the best gig of my life—will end in March.

For about 40 minutes I was sad/angry/hurt, then my wits levelled me. It had been a very long and happy relationship that opened innumerable doors. I will be forever grateful to Opus.

Then I noticed one of my favourite fishes was likely dying and it was probably my fault from overfeeding. I felt awful and it has been a surprise to me how much my affections  have been triggered by my little wet and beautiful friends. As I write this on Thursday morning at 6:30 am, it is dark and I fear that when I go in to feed my friends this morning, one will be on the bottom.

But I am an adult. I did not over-react. Then my friend Sue called to tell me our mutual dear friend is in hospital with a blood clot in her lung and congestive heart failure in both ventricles. After that news, I need to get into the healing sunshine, so I walked to Costco to get two inhalers.

At my Tuesday appointment, Dr. Dorscheid doubled my dose of inhaled medication so I will be going through my puffers twice as fast and I only had two more days of meds left at that rate. Hence my trip to Costco.

The walk was good. It calmed me, but when I got there I found out that my prescription was expired, so I walked all the way back to Dr. Dorscheid's office to discover he is only in once a week and that the day before was his day for the week. I won't bore you with how complicated it was to sort out getting a prescription. Instead I will just say that when I got  home, soaking wet from sweat on a hot, hot day, and frustrated, I discovered my favourite watch had fallen out of my bag somewhere en route and that took me down. I slid into the worst mood I have experienced in years. It was not a great day.

It ended decently as I ate a fresh pesto dinner in the stunning sunshine, finished The 100-Year Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared and then watched the absolutely fabulous Maxine Peake bring extraordinary life to QC Martha Costello in Silk, a brilliant TV series in which she plays the lead character. The show is brilliantly penned by writer, Peter Moffatt.

Saturday & Sunday

Saturday was spent mostly reading. I am really enjoying reading The 100-year Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared, by Jonas Jonasson. It is hilarious and his writing style (and the translators) is unique and adds to the hilarity. 

But Sunday was a beautiful day for a nice long walk (see map above). There is something magnificent about this time of year—warm as summer but the smell and look of Fall. But its what is in the mind that so affects my feelings; it is the consciousness of coming winter that is part of it, but there is also something cozy and deeply fulfilling about the change in season. Anticipation is always positive in my head. The approach of Fall brings memories of returning to school and renewal to my mind.

Walking to my morning fitness classes is a joy in this wonderful invigorating weather.

How NOT to Start Your Day

It was just before 5:00 am; I thought some commercial driver delivering groceries was having a drug-induced breakdown and playing with his horn. It was as loud as an earthquake and when he wouldn't stop, I got up to see ALL of Davie Street full of flashing lights, fire trucks and police. NOw, 50 minutes later, there are rivers of water on the road but it is winding down. I have no idea which store on Davie burned, but it brought back memories of when the office I worked in was destroyed by fire.

When our office burned, it was me the fire department phoned. A friend drove me to the fire and on the way I actually threw up with anxiety that my heater may have caused the fire (it didn't). It was days before I could stand to  breath in the building in order to retrieve papers and effects that remained. And it was  heartbreaking to see the effects. Until it happens to you, you have no idea how emotional a fire is. I was finding smoke-stained things for years in my files.

A Seriously Busy Day!

The cat wakes me at 5:00 am. He is hungry. I get up to feed him and then can't go back to sleep. I get up and answer a few emails. I bathe, tidy the apartment and finish reading a memoir by dear friend, Beth.

Then I clean both aquaria and change the water. Several of my females are about to burst with babies. Then I make a corn salad that I love to eat but hate to make. Arthritis makes gripping the corn cob hurt whilst I carve away the blanched kernels for the salad. Then I wash all the floors. I do this now regularly to minimize dust and coughing.

Then I make a shopping list and go to Granville Island. I do my shopping and then I meet my friend, Mog, for coffee. Then home in a lightning storm to eat. Then I measure and prep all the ingredients I need to baste the halibut and risotto in the morning.

I clean up and then start on the tart. My first tarte aux pêches: cooking the pastry shell, making a peach glaze for after making an almond paste and then more arthritic food gripping to slice all the peaches. But the end result looks good.

What I hate about my new hobby of baking is that so often you can't taste what you have made until you serve it. Also, I improvise on recipes and so that robs me of confidence as well. My courage to go on comes from asking myself: "How can you go wrong with butter, sugar and almond flous?" This is for friends coming tomorrow night so I am making it tonight in case if flops. The peaches are very juicy and that can make things challenging.

It's now 10:00 pm and I haven't been still all day except for my coffee with Mog. But the tarte aux pêches is looking good!

A Class First

This summer I only taught one section of my course at Emily Carr University. The last class is always great because we see everyone's work which we are not allowed to see during the run of the course. It is always a very "up" class that is always fun and moving. This term, one of us took a photo of the rest of us. That is the fist time a photo has been taken. I am there on the right.

Will I or Won't I?

Will I or won't I be able to do my show again? Will or won't I have to rewrite, yet again, the story of my life? Will I or won't I have to write music again? Soon I will have an answer to these and so many other questions. Soon I will hear if Pacific Theatre will choose to do my play as part of their season 2014/15.  I feel, right now, like a high school graduate with a hopeful application in to Harvard.

This blogging, baking, walking, volunteering, reading and aqua porn are all designed to keep me away from the keyboard. I am working hard every day not to write so that if my play is chosen, I will work on that. I do not want to start something that I have to stop in order to go back to re-writing the play. I am a one-thing-at-a-time kind of guy. Soon my path will be clear.

Sometimes when I am walking, I wonder if one day late this year or early next year I will be walking to the theatre to do seven or eight shows a week for three weeks. I have built a theatre that is now operating in its fortieth year. I have commissioned and produced an original play that got rave reviews and toured Canada, but I have never done anything as satisfying as having a play that I have written, produced by a (great) professional theatre. And more than that... being the feature player in it.

And if it happens, I will be 66!

To the PNE and Back

Yesterday was a truly fabulous day. I woke up happy, knowing that the day was going to be gorgeous weather and with a plan for the walk to the PNE (Pacific national Exhibition) and back. Whereas once the PNE was a grand, huge agricultural fair, it is now a fraction of its original size but it remains a fun day at the end of the summer.

As a kid, I would go to the huge and MGM-like PNE parade that would open the fair. That no longer exists, and whereas once there was a huge section of the fair devoted to crafts, animal husbandry, home cooking and floral arrangements, all that is gone. Now it is a mixture of Vegas and gluttony.

I left home at 9:00 am and it was a treat walking through town early on a Sunday morning. I had the whole of downtown to myself. I arrived about twenty minutes early, but Dianne had also arrived so in we went with the opening crowd. We just meandered through an overwhelming experience that neither of us were really interested in. We people watched, ate and had a ball. Then I walked back home.

It was THE best way to end the summer.

This is a skytrain station downtown and there are usually huge crowds here, but this Sunday morning downtown was a wasteland. 

The gate at the Dr. Sun Yat Sen Memorial Garden.

I love the Mediteranean feel of these two places (above and below) on Francis Street. 

Crabapples line parts of Francis street.

 Hideous beauty.

 Dude, like my hair?

 This little piggy was hungry.

 This one was tired.

 These ones were in heaven. I Couldn't love an animal more.

 Scotland not only gave us this, they gave us Haggis.

Dessert fries?