I'm So Engaged by my Small Life, I Forget to Post

For the second time this week, I forgot to post. In a way, it may be a good sign. I get engaged early in the day, with chores such as tidying and culling in the pantry. And we walk, and we eat, and time goes by and suddenly it’s tomorrow and I realize that I forgot to post. 

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Thursday, I heard from several friends. It’s that time of year. I Zoomed with my UK stuttering group in the morning, Regina dropped by in the afternoon and I went to dinner with Kris and Steve. It was a very social day. It was also a very wet day. Our morning walk was trying because neither of us like walking in the rain, but we suited up, both of us, and it was painless. But what a treat it was to come home to a fire and warm house with kitties curled up in the chairs by the fire.

My Zoom call was long. Our UK group was well attended, and it was a great session. And then I Zoomed with Steve for a long time. We are tremendously close friends. I feel blessed that we are such great buddies. And I read under the cover of my electric blanket. It was a very dark and wet day, so being so cozy felt fabulous.

I’m really struggling to speak right now. My speech worsened five days ago. I think I’ll speak better again; I reckon this is just a blip that will pass. I hope so. I’m looking forward to three very chill days starting today. What with all my texting and Zooming with SPACE people, I’m glad to have a few days to myself. There may be baking; there may be cooking. I will see how it goes. I’m, hoping the rest will improve my voice.

Because Thursday was a designated ‘special’ day, two people called me on my land line. I could only grunt in reply. I couldn’t even get a single syllable out. Thankfully, while Todd was still on the land line trying to reach me, I opened up FaceTime and called him on FaceTime so at least I could get some words out.

I don’t give a shit about my speech being bad. That’s the good news. In the past I would get distressed by a decline in my speaking ability, but no more. I just don’t care. I can communicate so many other ways, and nothing is going to interfere with my joy of living her on this spectacular little island.

I was very happy to leave the house for a restaurant meal, especially with two dear friends. I knew that I’d be back in a matter of two hours, so I was not worried about Sheba being stressed. I left her with a rawhide bone to chew and drove very happily to meet my friends at Woodfire.

friday

Got up and followed my usual morning routine. When I opened the fridge the first time, I thought I smelled something bad. The second time I opened the fridge, I knew there was something bad in it. I spent 45 minutes, and it never occurred to me to check the chicken because it was only 2 days old, and I had it well wrapped. So, I didn’t check the chicken until I’d checked everything else, including taking out the drawers. Then, the chicken, and I knew right away.

The day passed like every other, a bit of YouTube, a lot of reading, walking, feeding the fire, chores, etcetera. You’ve read it here a thousand times, But I am content in the pattern. 

I think I know why my speech is bad. I was sitting at my desk, and it occurred to me to wonder why my speech had become so much worse. I knew right away—rather, I think I knew right away. I wrote about it being a special day because I didn’t want to mention that it was my birthday, and I hate it when it’s my birthday.

I don’t like the attention. I cried when I thought about it. I hate attention, except when I am onstage, and then I like to earn the attention of the audience, and when I do, I love their attention—when I’m onstage. But I hate it after the show. Off-stage, I am out of control and vulnerable to others.

I told Dwight, and he said right away that it was characteristic of childhood abuse. Laura, his wife, is a therapist and she’d mentioned what he’d repeated. It’s deeply, deeply, cripplingly disturbing to me, my birthday. My 50^th birthday was the worst day of my life. I’ve written about it on this blog twice before, but everybody at a surprise party, looking at me all at once, expecting me to be happy and make a funny speech. It made me physically ill. I fled the party. Shameful, but true. I have a problem. I don’t like attention.

In France, my wonderful friends, Guy and Marie-Claude, took me into the Alps for New Year’s Eve. There were a dozen of us, all friends of my friends, all French, all with tons of shared memories, and I could not understand anything that was going on. I felt very uncomfortable; I tried to fake comprehension by imitating the reactions of others. It was horrid.

And then, a kind and lovely woman, leaned forward, turned her head in my direction, and very slowly, and with exaggerated expression, she asked me: “D'où venez-vous ?” Every single person at the table stopped talking and everyone in the room, all twenty-two eyes were on me. They were being polite, and kind, but I froze, closed my eyes, bowed my head, and gently turned it side to side. It just happened. Then, Marie-Claude came over and rescued me. That was 1974. That’s why I made all my dresses but didn’t want to show them. I don’t like attention.

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This morning, rising in the infinite blackness of morning here on Gabe where there is usually no ambient light to a glorious surprise: clear skies and a full moon bringing a beautiful light into Pinecone Park. We’ll enjoy our morning walk without rain and some brightness, and then we’ll return to our nice warm house with a big fire.

Zoomin' and Pukin'

tuesday

Well, what to say? I had the greatest time talking to Jack, a fellow board member of SPACE, a stutterer, and a speech language therapist who, as a side hustle, does Shakespeare workshops for people who stutter that culminate in a performance. As I meet these wonderfully accomplished people who happen to stutter, my stutter becomes far less of a burden. I’m inching towards pride in my speech thanks to Aidan and his spectacular pals.

The rest of Tuesday was spent walking Sheba and making cinnamon buns to share with my fellow dog walkers this morning. During the first rest, the dough didn’t rise as much as I hoped it would. There was a slight improvement in the rise during the second rest. 

I’ve never made buns before of any kind. I decided to use the dough recipe that I use for challah, and I added a bit more sugar. And when I rolled it out, I coated it with brown sugar whipped in butter, and I sprinkled pecan chips and raisins on it and then rolled it up and cut it into sections to become individual buns. As I type this, the buns are baking in the oven. I have doubts but am hopeful.

I also donated to SPACE which was very well received. I am so chuffed by being part of the SPACE community, I had to donate. Besides, I went to the pharmacy this morning and picked up three prescription refills and I paid nothing. All my drugs are free except for the first few months of each year when I pay down the deductible. Donating to SPACE is what I will do with all the money I don’t spend on pharmaceuticals.

I didn’t read all day. I was too busy baking, Zooming, shopping and walking Her Highness. It is amazing to go through these endless days alone, never bored and always engaged with something—reading, Zooming, working on the house or the yard, keeping the fire going, etcetera, etcetera.

I’ve been kind of swept off my feet by Aidan and SPACE. I’m starting to feel, at times, like I’m in the Green Room with the other presenters at a TED Talk, feeling that I’m about to be exposed as a fraud. I had a think and decided that my colleagues at SPACE are there because of special skills, and most of those skills relate to SPACE programs and services, and I’m there to support them by focusing on the infrastructure of the legal society. 

Tuesday night I texted Aidan to ask if the members we solicit can receive a tax-deductible receipt for their membership fee. He answered that he didn’t know. I texted to him that I’d find out. He texted to say how pleased he was to have someone volunteer to take something on. For the first time, I used AI to ask if membership fees in BC were tax deductible for our members. I got a concise and definitive answer. I copied two short paragraphs of the text on Google and texted them to Aidan. Mere minutes had gone by.

Small stuff, I know. But helping him will please me deeply. Jack, the man I met on Zoom today—who lives in Nashville; I can’t believe I have met someone from that city—he believes in membership. And I’ve written to Brooke, who is interested in fundraising and already part of SPACE. It’s all so exciting, slowly building a case for memberships and clarifying legal issues for the upcoming board meeting. 

I’m so fucking excited because my brain will be present at the meeting and speaking for the concept of memberships and our objectives in creating this status of affiliation, and the obligations imposed on SPACE (that I welcome). Dealing with members will be part of my job. And Aidan and I will work together on content to meet those obligations. Woo fucking hoo!

And it’s because in this forum, like nowhere else I have ever been, is where my speech doesn’t matter. My speech is a badge of honour when I’m in the SPACE community. Finding SPACE is proving to be as valuable to me as meeting Dr. Shoja and moving to Gabriola. Now I have three things to thank for healing my post-breakdown soul.

I’m a texter. I’m learning things from young people about how they communicate. SPACE is entirely digital, and it sells digital products and events on the ground. I’ve been texting Aidan. He confirmed this view I have of SPACE. 

Tuesday evening, I became quite ill, quite quickly. It’s the second time this has happened. I felt verypoorly; walking was a challenge and I went to bed without brushing my teeth which I HATE to do. But I slept like a hibernator.

wednesday

All through the early morning I was texting Aidan and arranging for more Zoom calls with SPACE board members. Before I knew it, it was time to meet our friends to walk with our dogs. Sheba, however, was limping, so we came home and I didn’t give them my cinnamon buns because of the rancid pecans. They ruined the buns. Also, I was not pleased at all with the dough. The yeast failed and I don’t know if it was also old, like the nuts, or the milk wasn’t hot enough. I’ve ordered a new high-tech baking thermometer so I can more easily and more accurately know the temperatures of liquids. It will be very handy for making bread—yeast is best mixed with milk or water that is 110°F—and for tempering chocolate.

When we got home, I did more SPACE stuff until it was time to Zoom with Nicola, who’s a dear friend, not a SPACE person. We had a blast talking for an hour and a half, and then I fed the brood their lunch, after which I got lost in YouTube videos of some people who have channels to which I subscribe. And then we went out for our afternoon walk, and Sheba was walking well.

Evening was spent on the chaise, but not for long. I went to bed early and it was lovely falling asleep while listening to the rain falling on the roof. I love falling asleep when I can hear the rain. And it’s still raining. Sigh. We will short walk today unless the rain stops, and tonight I dine with Kris and Steve at Woodfire. I’m really looking forward to a restaurant meal with friends. Plus, I Zoom this morning with my UK stuttering group.

I'm a SPACE Board Member!

We went for a long walk yesterday morning. It was fabulous because although the day was dull and damp, it didn’t rain. I felt very good giving Her Highness a good long walk, and when we were done, we went into the village to shop for food. As I was getting out of the car, my wrist vibrated—my Apple watch lets me know whenever I get a text or an email—and it was Aidan inviting me to become a SPACE board member. I was thrilled to say YES, YES, YES!

After shopping, we came home to a lovely warm house. My God, I love living in a house heated by woodfire. I fed everyone lunch and then I got busy writing down notes for my upcoming conversation with Aidan. I’m so glad that we had arranged to talk today because I’m excited about being on the SPACE board. And Aidan is grateful that my focus is on strengthening the infrastructure of SPACE.

As I awaited our call, it became so dark that I had to turn lights on in the kitchen and living room. It felt like it was 17:30 at 12:30! And the rain returned. It was deafening inside the house as the downpour pounded on my metal roof. And so, it being so unwelcoming outside, I built up the fire. I was looking forward to Aidan’s call, but I was also very keen to get back to my Simon Mason book. I’m now reading the third and last one. The fourth book of his DI Ryan Wilkins series is coming out in June. I’ve pre-ordered it on Amazon.

It was great to talk to Aidan. We remain in synch on plans to develop membership policies and growth strategies as well as fundraising. At the coming board meeting, we’ll introduce the concept of paid memberships and see how that goes with the other board members.

It was in August that I decided to do something about my weight. I was determined to lose weight and to keep it off as my effort to improve my capacity to climb hills and stairs and to walk at a normal pace. My asthma required that I do everything possible to make breathing easier. I have no trouble dieting. My problem was what happened when the diet stopped.

My entire late adult life had been a pattern of dieting and then putting on weight. Every time I dieted, I could hardly wait for the diet to end, and I’d go right back to eating sweets. I truly believe that this time, I will not be a rebound fatty again. I have no desire to eat sweets as part of every meal anymore. Neither have I any ambition to return to eating big portions of food. The thought of eating a hamburger, a primary staple of my life, is off-putting now. However, whenever I take the ferry to Vancouver, I’ll want a White Spot burger. And that’s okay because I never want to go to Vancouver.

This morning, I weighed myself. For weeks now, I’ve been a constant weight, and that weight is the weight I maintained all my young adult life—77 kilos (170 pounds). Yes, I’m very happy to be a healthier weight, and I’m very glad not to be carrying the 14 kilos (30 pounds) I’ve lost up hills anymore. But what really thrills me is believing the rebounding is over.

Except for tomorrow, there’s naught but rain in the forecast and temperatures will be below 10°, so I ordered some books to read. I loved the Bruno books of Martin Walker, so I ordered the two published since I read every single one of his Bruno books. Plus, I pre-ordered the one coming out in May. I’m back to murder mysteries.

I’m considering making some cinnamon buns today. I can unload a lot of them tomorrow, offering them to my dog walking friends. Thursday evening, I’m going out for dinner with Kris and Steve. I’m really looking forward to that. And on Friday, I’m having lunch with Kelly at The Surf. Good times are at hand.

I love it when fog/mist lies low on the land in the mornings.
To come to my house, you turn off the main road at Buttercup,
and as you come down the hill you are between two farms, both
of which have vast fields that host morning mist at this time of year.

Spa Drained

 Our morning walk was a very pleasant one. The walking keeps me warm, so I was quite content as we wandered the trails of the 707 Park. And then we came home and I got busy making bread. This time, I had some problems with the yeast. I may have not used hot enough water to make the dough.

However, I did get a rise in the first rest, so I divided the dough into two 900 grams sections, kneaded it, and put it in bread pans for the second rest. I put the pans near the fireplace in hopes of getting a good rise in the dough. And while the second rest was happening, I Zoomed with my dear buddy, David, who lives in London.

The dough rose well in the pans, so into the oven they went. Soon thereafter, however, I smelt a funny smell in the house. By accident, I’d pushed the “broil” button instead of the “bake’ button, so my loaves were burning on top. I switched the oven to baking, left the loaves in place, and all looks good. Some pieces of bread will need a trimming on top to remove the burnt crust.

Next, I think I want to make cinnamon buns, but with only a light sugaring and no frosting. I’ve become a savoury baker instead of a sweet baker, and I couldn’t be happier. There’s magic in breaking bread.

While the bread was still steaming hot, I cut off one end piece, buttered it, and ate it as I floated up to heaven. This bread tastes better than my last bread, and the little burn patch on the top of each loaf was easily scraped off. This bread is delicious. I must be careful not to eat too much of it.

Mid-afternoon, we went for our second walk. Coming back into the house after the walk was sublime. The fragrance of fresh baked bread had me back in heaven. Sheba headed for the bed to rest after our walk, and I got into the spa to enjoy the last spa of the season. When I was done, I drained the tub and put it to bed for the Winter. Sigh.

It's cool and very, very wet out there this morning. None of my fellow dog walkers seem very interested in walking. Sheba and I may be walking alone. The highlight of my day will be video chatting with Aidan at 13:00.