Sylvie et Lucie Arrivent Aujourd'hui

It’s dawned bright and, as usual, cool. It’s an excellent day for Lucie and Sylvie’s flight from Vancouver this afternoon. The entire coming week (except Friday) is predicted to be sunny and slowly warmer.

I worked my butt off glazing and decorating the cake yesterday. I have incredible respect for the bakers on the Great British and Canadian Baking Shows; it is a Hell of a lot of work to make a fancy cake and decorate it. I also took Her Highness for three short walks as her foot continues to heal.

I did a lot of cleaning and tidying so that Pinecone Park is ready for Sylvie and Lucie’s arrival, and I reserved a table at The Surf for dinner. It’s got a great view and I’d rather not knock myself out preparing a meal after al the work involved with the two-day bake of the cake. 

I also invited my tea party mates (Anna, Di and Donna) for tea and the remaining cake on Friday. They are women with whom I walk Sheba three times a week and they have been very, very welcoming to me since I moved here.

Today, there’ll be more short walks with Sheba and I’m going to shop and make some canapés to have with wine (D. Coke for me) this afternoon with my guests.

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I cancelled my participation in the mental health program run by the Nanaimo Hospital in which I was enrolled. It was to begin at the end of the month and go for two months but I continue to enjoy perfect mental health. (And I save myself a lot of commuting and taxpayer money!)

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I see signs of hope in America. As Biden, the fuddy duddy, amasses delegates, and as Trump mishandles the Covid19 crisis, I have hope that Trump will lose. And what a thrill that would be. I tremble with glee at the thought of what will come out once he’s out of office as well as seeing the end of all his horrid spawn. 

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My friend Dianne called yesterday right after I sent her an email. I thought she called because of my email, but she hadn’t been online: nice co-incidence, eh?

She’s coming to visit next week with her daughter, Ashlee. We were talking about her visit and in the conversation she noticed how all my inflections were back in my speech, so we talked about my recovery. I told her about my miraculous and sudden improvement and she said that she didn’t think I’d ever speak properly again. Neither did I.

I’m still gobsmacked that after thirty-five years of speech problems, the last four of them really intense, are over. I think a contributing factor has been a conviction I developed: Both Dr. Shoja and Cathy believe that the Tyrell’s lack of care and abuse screwed me up and I decided it wasn’t fair that they were getting a second “kick at the can” (on my psyche), so I resolved to end their destructive influence.

Free at last!

Lemon Cake

Sheba was not feeling at all well yesterday morning and it turns out her left rear foot was raw and sore, so I put some Polysporin on it and then put a sock on her foot and a plastic bag over that. Soon she was showing an interest in walking again and her appreciation was a joy to receive. So we went for a short walk.

Then I got to baking a cake. I made a Lemon drizzle cake by first baking the cake and then a lemon syrup to soak into the cake, and then I made butter cream to spread between the three very thin layers. It’s not a deep cake, it’s rather shallow and solid, but I think it will be fine. When I was done, I put it into the freezer to freeze overnight so that this morning, I could make a glaze and create a mirror finish.

Then I made some small leaves in three colours of green to add as detail. I’ll serve this cake to Lucie and Sylvie when they arrive tomorrow afternoon.

Today is cloudy but there’s been no rain. In fact, all of February and March (to date) has been incredibly dry but cool. Tomorrow, the sun is due for the two days of Sylvie and Lucie’s visit, then a day of possible precipitation, then several days of more sunshine are predicted. I’ll be able to do some garden work if it’s not too cool. Otherwise, it’ll be more reading and eating all the leftover cake.

I'm Back!

My trip to the city could not have gone better. The weather was great on every day but one, and I saw beloved friends, all of whom were in fine form and seemed happy to see me. The only part that was hard on me, was leaving Sheba behind and not seeing Fred and Ethel first thing every morning.

I met Bruce for breakfast on the Thursday morning when I arrived after a nice stroll around my old neighbourhood, and then met Robin for lunch at a favourite restaurant—Banana Leaf. It was great to see them both and to catch up on our various interests. Then I went to VGH and reported my good news: I was experiencing no anxiety whatsoever and speaking without any interruptions at all.

I talked to bus drivers, cab drivers, library clerks, gallery staff, people I passed on my walk, dog owners and restaurant staff. I ordered all my own food and never ever once stuttered. I was 100% normal, so I terminated my outpatient status at VGH and then made my way to West Vancouver to John and Bunny’s house.

I got to their house around 4:30 pm, so we had lots of time to chat before dinner and then going to bed. The dinner, as it always is at their house, was absolutely inspiringly delicious. Bunny is a master chef. We has baked Savoy Cabbage with roasted walnuts, lemon juice, oil and garlic and the best Salmon I’ve ever had and then Lemon custard. Yum. Yum. Yum!

I awoke on Friday to glorious sunshine and a message from Nicola that we could not meet for lunch at Le Crocodile as planned because she was horribly sick. I was sad not to be able to see a dear friend and savor the incredible cuisine of Le Croc, so instead I decided to walk from John and Bunny’s in the heart of West Vancouver to the Vancouver Art Gallery to see the Cindy Sherman show. (It was a fourteen-kilometer walk!)

The Cindy Sherman show was fabulous. Although I am not a fan of her work, I absolutely love that she leaves each image untitled and provides to context; she leaves all the interpretive work to the viewer. She, perhaps over all others, honours us; she assumes we have the intelligence with which to determine our own meaning in her work.

Then it was off to Costin and Marnina’s for another night of fabulous conversation and dining. I stayed with them overnight in their newly renovated townhome and arose to a shared breakfast and more conversation before I bid them adieu to make my way back to West Vancouver to meet Leslie for lunch. And man-oh-man was it wonderful to be with Leslie. We hadn’t seen each other for two years.

After lunch we went for a walk in the sunshine with her Gigi to the local dog park and then I hopped on the bus to Dwight’s. Dwight’s daughter has come out as gay and so we are very close. She is also a writer and actor/singer. So we have a lot in common. And I adore his wife and mother-in-law who lives upstairs, so being with so many friends in one place was incredibly fulfilling. They feel like family to me.

For dinner we went for dinner at a great restaurant on Granville Island (Edible BC) and then I went home to sleep at their house before saying goodbye in the early morning to walk in the sunshine to my breakfast date with Bruce, Maureen and Annabel—all friends from way, way back and out theater days together. Our breakfast was full of energy, talk of Covid19 and old friends. It was wonderful. From there, I got into a cab and went to catch my flight home.

And when I got off the plane home, I raced home to my reunion with Sheba, Fred and Ethel. Boy that felt so, so good! The first thing I did, was take Sheba to the park.

I’m glad to be home, and that’s what Gabriola has become for me after two-and-a-half years. I loved every single second I was in the city, but I still would rather not live there. It is just too loud and busy for me; here in Paradise, I’ve become the person I was born to be. The delicious silence and calm are vital for my soul.

However, I’m more interested than ever in getting rid of my car and getting a van so that I can go to the city with Sheba and the two of us can sleep in the car. It’s what Steve and Béla and I did together for many years. And I’m going to cancel my enrollment in the psychiatric program in Nanaimo because I did, and do, so well now and am entirely symptom-free. I will go if, and when, a relapse occurs, but I’m me again and I want to live free of any aspects of therapy while I can.

Leaving Family

By bag is full and I'm full of sadness. I'm so attached to Sheba, it hurts to leave her. Hannah is a sweetheart and her mother, Shelly, will also come by to walk Sheba. Shelly lives two houses away. But it truly hurts to leave my girl and the cats. We are family. They have been with me through my move here and my mental health struggles providing the only compassion and comfort I get in this world.

We share the same bed and have since she first arrived; she was the first removed from her litter. When I have my nightmares, I awaken to the weight of her body against mine and I know immediately that all is well and good because she is by my side. Our bond is a miracle. I can hardy wait to get back.