To Nanaimo

Yesterday the sun came up, just like it always does, and then it went down again at night; it was just another day in paradise, but it was indoors with a book. And this morning, I’m busy doing all I have to do before I catch the ferry to Nanaimo to go to an appointment with the pacemaker clinic at Nanaimo General Hospital. Sheba and I will have a long day together in the car.

I’m also going to do some shopping at the nursery and the pet store and, of course, I’m taking advantage of being in the big smoke to get a White Spot hamburger. I love their burgers!

I can hardly wait to get back to the wasteland tomorrow. I reckon I can finish the tilling tomorrow and lay the new soil next week. Today's begun cloudy but I see lots of blue sky so my plans for tomorrow  are set; working in the yard is much more fun on sunny days.

Yay! Showers!

Working on the wasteland is tiring for this old man. Tilling soil filled with roots, rocks and crap—old concrete, domestic and construction detritus (including lots of broken glass)—is tough. I’m pulling up Salal and Oregon Grape roots that go deep and are strong, and I’m constantly bending to pull them and to lift all my collected refuse into the wheelbarrow. I’m exhausted after only an hour’s work, so I take a short break every hour. But … I see progress being made. It’s slow, but it’s steady.

I think next week, I’ll be ordering the soil and that’ll mean more work. I’ll have it delivered to the driveway where it can be dumped onto, and covered with, a tarpaulin.  I’ll have to load up the wheelbarrow with soil, schlep it to the wasteland and then spread it around. I’ll have to do that a hundred times or more. But then, my entire backyard will be done.

The only ‘wild’ part left on my land now, is the land between my front lawn and the road. I’ve left it wild to act as a buffer; it gives me a sense of privacy. I have no desire to landscape that part of my yard, thank God.  But one day … you never know. 

By 1:30, still early, I was so tired I got Sheba and we went first to the market and then to Rollo Park for a flat, easy walkabout. I felt done for the day. But as each day passes, the wasteland looks better. But today is dark and we’ve already had a few showers so, after a good long stretch of productive days, I’ll get back to my book.

Paula is coming to visit for one night. She’ll be here Sept. 8^th, and then Steve arrives on the 12h. Then Beth and Shari in early October.

Wasteland Baby

I cancelled my subscription to the Vancouver Sun and now my subscription to the New Yorker is expired. I am done with the news thank you!

I worked on the wasteland yesterday. Tilling is demanding work. The weeds and natural plants have long roots that require hard pulling. I’m constantly bending and pulling; it’s slow, slow work, but I am obviously making progress. I thought I’d be ordering the soil imminently, but no. It will be a couple more weeks of yanking and tilling before I am ready for the soil and seeding.

I also wasted hours yesterday trying to hook up the TV in my bedroom to my video player, but I failed. I hate having to do anything technical. I frustrate myself trying. I called Shaw and still, even with their help, I could not get things working.

I’ve been busy, busy, busy of late and it proves the efficacy of my pacemaker. All this summer I was reading up until my heart attack, preferring not to do any physical labour. But now …. Whoa! I’m going on-stop every day.

Today started with a dog walk with my friends and now my only plan for the day is working on the wasteland and watering the gardens. The forecast is for rain tomorrow. I have my doubts, as always, but I really hope it does. We’ve had only two rain showers since the end of May!

Yesterday, at the market, a car was parked outside Nesters with four Canadian flags on it and signs on it against masks and vaccines. “United in non-compliance” was painted on its back window. I wanted to pour black paint all over it or let the air out of its tires. Regina knows who the fellow is and says he’s a raving lunatic that no one likes.

Friendships

 On Sunday, I was busy all day again.

I went on the big dog walk and it was wonderful. Then, as soon as it was over, I hurried home to make my lunch and then start on the risotto. Shelling all the Prawns and then using the shells to make the broth takes an hour and a half, then making the risotto takes another hour. Plus, I had salad to prepare and all the tidying and cleaning I wanted to do. I finished with just enough time to have a spa before Stacy arrived for dinner.

We had a lovely evening and, thank goodness, she had the decency to leave early so that I could crash into bed early. But I must say, dinner was delicious. The Prawn risotto recipe I have is excellent and my Plum cake was fabulous too. (I’m not bragging; it’s the recipe writer who I’m praising.) But my God, I was tired.

Stacy. Her name’s been coming up. The interesting thing about this relationship I have with her, is that she is driving it. She compliments me, and so far, each time we meet, she proposed when our next meet-up could be. 

I have another neighbour, Monica. She’s a lovely soul, and she mentioned to me that she was finding it hard to meet compatible people here. That was a while ago. I think that I’m a compatible person for Stacy. She is not a permanent resident here, but she’s here often and I really enjoy her company. From the second she arrives there’s interesting conversation and we have lots of laughs. I feel lucky to be her compatible friend. 

It’s been like dating. Our last date was Sunday night. We gay men have long been good friends to women.

On Monday, something similar happened. 

I was out working on the wasteland and heard my name. It was Merrill, Leo and Issa, back after being away for 2.5 weeks. It was wonderful to be back together. They walked me through the shell of their new house, telling me what would be where. It was as thrilling for me, as it was for them.

We went to their bedroom to look at the view from the window. They wanted me to see how much of my yard they could see. And while they were there, they told me that they were going to have to leave again because their home had been epidemically infested with mice. There is mouse poo and pee everywhere. 

They are living in a cabin that will be torn down once their new home is completed. It’s the home their living in that is infested, not the new home.  So, they are arranging to stay at Merrill’s mother’s place, and I may not see them for quite a while. It was sad news.

They are packing their stuff into safe containers and getting a storage locker delivered in which to store all their things. They want to come back for weekends periodically, so I’ve offered them the studio. They welcomed the suggestion. I am very happy to help because I love them. I would never say so to anyone but you, Miss Diary, but I do tell them how much I value our friendship and that the gate is a symbol of our mutual goodwill.

Late yesterday afternoon, I was watering. Merrill called me and I went through our gate to say goodbye. They were heading off to Vancouver.  She gave me a book and a card, and off they went. 

I did a some cleaning up, got myself my new favourite drink. I’ve been sampling different water products, trying to find one that hooks me. My new favourite is Montellier, and it comes in a lovely blue bottle, and it’s cheap. It’s my new Diet Coke, but healthier. And then I opened the card.

I’m not going to tell you what they wrote, but Merrill wrote half and signed it, and Leo wrote the other half and signed it. When I read it, I was weepy. 

It’s weird and wonderful. I can feel their friendship—all of them, Merrill, Leo and Stacy—and it satisfies me like love once did. Why? I wondered. And I thought: Yea, it is like dating, like first love making a new friendship. 

It’s also because I am still new here; October 7^th is my fourth anniversary here. These new friendships make this island feel more and more like home. It makes me feel safer. They said they really value their daughter’s relationship with me. Sheba and their dog, Omelius, get along perfectly. My blood pressure was 168 yesterday.

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My affliction, Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) was in the news. My friend Kathy sent me a link to a CTV news article about young people diagnosed with FND were blaming their affliction on their Covid vaccinations. And because most people haven’t heard about FND, most of the article was about the disease. The line that stood out is this one: “It's actually the second most common neurological disorder that comes to see neurologists in outpatient clinics, but yet many doctors, including me several years ago, hadn't heard of this disorder.”

I’m part of a wave. I’ll be proof of a conspiracy soon.

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I’ll be back in the wasteland again today. I’m made little progress yesterday. I plan to get lots done today because soon I’ll be able to spread topsoil (expensive) and seed it (also expensive). I’ll probably make one more garden. And put Hostas by the shady gate.

 I like doing physical labour (at my pace). I see so much to do move around the yard, taking wheelbarrows full of wasteland trash into my dumping area, fetch tools, and water gardens. I’ve got lots I can do, and it’s the most satisfying work because I’m yard proud.