Issa

Thursday was another beautiful and sunny day. It was 25°. In October! I spent much of the day outdoors in shorts and a tee. It’s intense, the feeling of joy that fills me as warm wind blows as I walk through golden stalks of tall grass. It’s like being in church—the forest scents are incense, and the silence makes me feel like I am in a church. 

Mid-day, I went to the dentist. When I got home, I watered everything. The ground is fried. We’ve had one day of rain since mid-July. Showers are predicted, but that word usually means it won’t rain here on the island. It’ll likely be cloudy all day. And then it’s back to sunshine.

Late in the afternoon, I heard a knock at my back door. It was Merrill and Issa. They’d come over at the same time the day before, so I was thrilled to see them again. Her parents both tell me how much Issa loves me. I see when I’m with her, the way she always wants to hold my hand, and always wants me to come home with her and her mom.

I wonder where it starts, loving? I’ve always loved babies and I like children. I’m proud to say that I see them as a peer. I don’t talk down to kids. And then came Issa. I’ve often written here about Merrill and Leo. There company is thrilling. They are energetic young people. They are happy, open, and warm. We talk comfortably and there’s always a lot of laughter. 

I’m extremely fond of Merrill. Leo works in Vancouver and is home on weekends, and so I think she likes talking to an adult. And she knows I adore Issa. 

There was a time when I thought God might be my best friend. It was a tie with Dougie Downey. I loved God, but I hated going to church. For the rest of my life, I regularly had conversations with God in my head. I felt loved by God because I went through a lot of childhood challenges, but I emerged relentlessly happy. Having Merrill, Leo and Issa next door would have been something I saw as proof that God loved me.

These visits to grandpa Chris when she gets home from daycare may continue.

Writing for the clinic has become more of a challenge. I write what I’m asked to write. I send my finished tasks to my leaders, Dyan and Nancy. In everything I write, I seem to include things that are not appropriate. They are true, but not for sharing. Each part of my writing that must be removed is seen as a learning opportunity for me. In an ‘I’m too old for this’ moment, I told Nancy that I was thinking I should do more learning before I do more writing.

There are political edits and what I call’ trump’ edits. A trump edit is when I write something that is true, but that truth is trumped by another truth within government policies. The learning is exhausting and deeply complex. This old and tired dog is really having trouble learning his tricks. However, I shall press on.

Today I shop for Pad Thai supplies. My dried shrimp arrived today from Amazon, and Dianne is bringing Tamarind from the big smoke. And we are having turkey for thanksgiving. 

Let There Be Light

Whoa!!  I am absolutely gob smacked by the change in the light in my backyard. Two enormous Fir trees blocked the sun from coming into my backyard all through the afternoon and early evening—especially during Spring and Fall. But no more. Felling the two trees has brought about a massive change, and it’s not just the yard that is receiving much greater light. So is the house. I’ll have a bright sunny kitchen now on sunny days, and my edible garden will thrive with all the new light.

I thought I’d face a herculean task of moving massive rounds of wood to a stack in my driveway where it would sit and dry over the winter. But I cannot lift any of the rounds. They are far, far too big to lift, move and split. Rod, one of the men doing the work, suggested I trade someone half the wood to come and break it down. It’s going to be a significant challenge. For now, I will celebrate the new light.

Rod is a 6' 3" handsome Quebecois!

Each round must weigh 200 lbs.

Rod's assistant is also ridiculously handsome!

I went into the village to shop in the afternoon, but there were empty shelves everywhere. Our store is in chaos, so I adapt a lot, choosing things to eat that are available instead of, often, what I am wanting to make. It’s no big deal. It’s just a phase our store is going through. It is switching from one style of store to another. I feel for the employees because many customers express their frustration and are rather rude.

Have you noticed how many stores have signs about not tolerating rude or aggressive behaviour? I blame the Internet and social media where people have developed a taste for being a creep.

Today was supposed to be a day for my U.K. FND group to meet on Zoom, but it was cancelled. I haven’t had a session with my friends for two months now. Instead, I’ll be busy with clinic work and cleaning and tidying in advance of Dianne and Ashlee’s arrival. Also, I’ll really enjoy the abundance of light in Pinecone Park.

South African School Marimba Band

Look at the smiles on their faces!

Yesterday was cloudy, and therefore, cooler. Today, we’re back to clear skies. This most extraordinary Autumn is rolling on without the prospect of rain. There is still no rain in the forecast.

The tree fellers worked all morning at Dave and Ursula’s. They are back today to finish up there and to do work for me. I spoke to them yesterday, and they’re going to take two trees down for me, not just one.

The change in my yard due to the work Dave had done, is truly remarkable. My edible garden will be getting much, much more light from now on. I am giddy about that. And my backyard will be a much brighter space with the two trees I’m felling come down. It’s going to make a huge difference, not only in the yard, but in the house. Particularly in Spring and Fall, when the sun is low, I’m going to be flooded with light compared to the past.

Felling the two trees will cost me a grand. But the wood they yield, when I split it all, will save me from having to buy wood next year—wood that normally costs me between $1,500 to $1,800. 

Yesterday was a gentle day. We walked, I watered, and I did some clinic work. I also Skyped with Di who’s coming to stay on the weekend, and with Steve who’s in Florence on his holiday with Tim. It was a great day; the sunshine returned in the afternoon. Late in the day, I noticed Ethel was having trouble swallowing and breathing. I started to panic because the vet was closed, and she looked so distressed. She was moaning, panting, jutting her head forward to swallow, and crouching low to the floor. She wouldn’t eat or stop moaning. I dreaded every coming second until we got to see the vet.

I started fearing she’d die in the night. I was making myself sick with worry; my symptoms worsened. I discovered that because Ally and Peter dropped by, and I went outside to have a chat with them. Then Sheba and I played fetch for a while. I could not believe I was outside as the sun was disappearing behind the trees, in a tee and shorts, talking with friends in flip-flops and tank tops, in October! It was toasty warm.

When I came back into the house with Her Highness, there were Fred and Ethel to greet us. Ethel’s was preening, not moaning, not panting, and eager to eat. She must have swallowed something. She’s done that before and I had to pay $4,000 for surgery to correct a blocked bowel. All that matters, is that she seems fully recovered. Deep breaths followed.

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It’s so weird and wonderful that I’m becoming an administrator of the STAMMA support group for late onset stutterers. I wrote, on this blog, many months ago that I’d become aware of myself driving the discussion of the group. And that was because I was reading and learning a lot about FND and speech disorder. Our leaders have been two women—both British, fluent, female, and speech therapists. I’m replacing one of the women who is leaving. I reckon it’s a good idea to have a support group leader who has the condition plus both learned and experiential knowledge.

I’m chuffed to have been asked. The work I do for STAMMA, and the work I do for the clinic, is making my life more interesting. It feels good to be engaged with purpose.

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There’s still no end in sight for this endless sunshine we’ve been enjoying for three months. A report on the radio said that we haven’t had such a sunny September since 1987.

I’m going to be writing two letters for the clinic today, plus watching the two ginormous trees that block so much of my sunlight come down today. I am going to write to a lot of my men friends here on the island asking them for help with schlepping the bucked pieces of tree onto my drive way where I will stack them until I can rent a splitter and split them.