Hot Weather!

Yesterday morning, when I got up finally at six o’clock, it was already 27°. In the afternoon it was 35° and so Sheba and I stayed indoors most of the day. With my ceiling fans on and with my thick walls of logs, some up to 16” wide, the house stays nice and cool. I read and Sheba napped much of the day away.

I waited for the sun to go behind the trees, when the spa was shaded, to have an afternoon soak. It was sooooo relaxing. It’s incredibly wonderful outdoors right now. Everything is slow and quiet in this heat. No one is working in their yard.

In the evening, I watched Angels in America (part one) on the National Theatre streaming service. Andrew Garfield continues to amaze me as a performer. He was incredible in Tick Tick Boom, which I saw earlier this year. It’s a musical and it was the first time he’d ever sang professionally. He did an amazing job. His performance in AinA is equally as masterful.

After the play, I wrote an article for STAMMA. It’s been a journey. This article has been a challenge; I’ve felt overwhelmed with questions and couldn’t find a flow for all my thoughts, but last night I got it. I’ll be re-reading it and tweaking it today. I’m not convinced it’s ready to go still; I think I have more work to do on it.

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I met David J. in 1968, while on a trip to Europe. We were instant friends. I came home after two months abroad, but David continued. He was circumnavigating the globe. He eventually landed in Vancouver, on his way home to Montreal. While he was here, I introduced him to my friend, Sheila C. They married the following year.

Sheila grew up in a magnificent log home on the waterfront in West Vancouver. It was an ideal place for our group of friends to hang out as teenagers and as young adults. Her parents were warm, welcoming, and wonderful; they were honorary members of our group. We swam in the ocean and played games on their lawn., but the best times of all were when all of us were on our towels on their rocks on the edge of the sea, gossiping and laughing. 

Lois moved to our school from Edmonton for grade thirteen. She became one of my best friends. She met Lowan and soon they were both a part of our gang. Come mid-August, Lois and Lowan are going to Sheila and David’s for dinner in Ladner, where Sheila and David live. Sheila wrote to invite me, and I am very keen to go. We share so many memories. I expect to have, perhaps, a bit of a teary experience. It takes a huge magnet to get me onto the ferries and into the city. I hate the trip and the anxiety it produces.

At some point, I will most certainly have to account for my speech. When I realized that last night, I felt the usual anxiety and dread. Then, as I was thinking about it, my thoughts led me to thinking about the writing I’m doing for STTAMA that push buttons on classifications of speech disorders and therapeutic models. And then I thought: I’m advocating for change; I’m working for all people with late onsets to ensure that speech therapists and the medical community refer us to stuttering associations.

Speech support groups help late-onset people with atypical speech adapt and vent, and they lift our spirits. They give us a safe place in which to talk, and to talk about our experiences as dysfluent individuals. The medical system explains the ‘why’ of our condition; stuttering associations help us with the ‘how’ of living with a communication disorder.

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Sheba and I are still not walking. Yet another paw is raw. We haven’t been trail walking since July 15th.

Joni Mitchell; Nowhere Special

Joni Mitchell is the Canadian I’m most proud of. Look at this! Seventy-eight years old and on stage for the first time in twenty years—since her aneurism. Look at Brandi Carlisle and how happy she is. Wynona Judd crying and Emilylou Harris sharing in the miracle of Joni’s singing and song. I was weeping too! How I love this woman and her music!

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John arrived on the island at 11:30 with his cycling group, and while the group rode around the island and had lunch at a local home, John and I went to Surf Lodge and had lunch on the deck. John was full of admiration for the island sites he saw. We had a great, great two hours together and then I came home to chill and finish watering the gardens.

And while I watered, Sheba destroyed another foot. She is one fucked up dog right now and I’ve moved from compassion to frustration and anger about her incessant self-harming. I just don’t understand why she renders herself unable to walk. We had such a great day. She was looking great; her spirit was back and she was walking on all four paws. But no more. More days of being idle and recovery are ahead. I may have to put socks on all four of her feet.

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I found a streaming site that allowed me to see Nowhere Special. It stars the incredibly handsome James Norton, and he does a terrific job in the movie. I really liked it, but it’s seriously heavy. I’ve been waiting ages to see it. It was never released in North America. Two hours of looking at James Norton: what a great way to pass time. It’s a poignant story well told.

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Today is predicted to reach 35°. Her Highness and I will be taking it very easy, lazing through the day. I’m thinking of maybe going to Drumbeg for a very short walk with her and more to just hang out in the park to people watch.

Apraxia?

I did something worthwhile and responsible yesterday. I sent some truly lovely time outside in the late afternoon when the sun was off the edible garden, and I harvested a nice healthy bowl of fresh Raspberries. Yum! Soon, I’ll cut down all the old canes to help the new canes get lots of light. I’ve had the best harvest I’ve ever had Raspberries. My Blueberry crop is robust but small. My Blueberry bushes are growing very slowly. My edible garden gets decent sunlight, but perhaps not enough for the Blueberries to thrive. However, my Garlic harvest is going to be spectacular, even though some have struggled and died.

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Sunday was a delight. High thin clouds dulled the harshness of sunlight and there was a refreshing gentle breeze. I finished all the watering I wanted to do early in the morning, and had the remainder of the day to read, have a leisurely spa and relax. I felt totally calm and happy. I love Sundays; they are the best!

I have so many things to do around the yard! I have eves to clean, wood to move, deadheading to do, staking to do, and there’s always a need for weeding. So, what do I do? I choose to be with Bruno instead of working.

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I spent many hours yesterday reading about speech disorders and developing papers for STAMMA. I’m being seriously encouraged by STAMMA and my B.C. stuttering support group to work together to develop my many concerns into a coherent form. I’ve hit on a complex concern for nomenclature around speech disorders.

No one, not Dr. Shoja, Dr. Ramage or Dr. Morrison have only called my speech problem a symptom—of first PTSD and then FND. They used no other name. So, I’ve been studying all I can about late-onset speech disorders. (I’ve read 17 books about it in the past.) Yesterday, I came across a new term: Apraxia.

Apraxia refers to the difficulty someone has initiating and performing the movements needed to make speech. This difficulty arises, despite there being is no weakness in the necessary muscles. Here’s a list of symptoms of Apraxia:

·      Difficulty stringing syllables together in the appropriate order to make words, or inability to do so

·      Minimal babbling during infancy

·      Difficulty saying long or complex words

·      Repeated attempts at pronunciation of words

·      Speech inconsistencies, such as being able to say a sound or word properly at certain times but not others

·      Incorrect inflections or stresses on certain sounds or words

·      Excessive use of nonverbal forms of communication

·      Distorting of vowel sounds

·      Omitting consonants at the beginnings and ends of words

·       Seeming to grope or struggle to make words

This sounds a lot like me.

A leading researcher of stuttering and a doctor who stutters is Dr. Gerald Maguire. I’ve spoken with him twice. He said to me: “I don’t think of you as a stutterer.”

Before I get more involved with the debate, I’ve modestly ignited in the stuttering community, I need to know if I am a stutterer or not. I also need to know if stuttering organizations welcome people with speech disorders other than stuttering, into their ranks.

This all concerns me because I represent many adults who suddenly cannot speak well due to psychological or neurological issues, brain surgery, or strokes. Are we stutterers? Are we part of the stuttering community? Much more to come…. 

Tuberose: The finest fragrance!

Sunday! Yay!

I love Deer, even the one that ravaged my garden. And this little story thrilled me to watch it. Look at Kate’s majestic face; she loves her little fawn pal.

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I feel an end coming to my clinic work. I can’t say that I’m enjoying it very much. Dyan’s inclination to have the accountant do the newsletter killed my enthusiasm for continuing. We are the communications, community liaison and fundraising committee, but the accountant does the newsletter. This, in an organization that is awash in policies to ensure everything is done in perfect order.

My writing for STAMMA is far, far more rewarding. That’s a factor in my disenchantment with the clinic. Yesterday, I was asked to draft text for a handout that will be given to people attending the anniversary party. I wrote it, and Dyan rejected it. Her email suggested it be much shorter and she listed seven headlines that she thought identified the major points for inclusion, and she suggested that one sentence on each headline was all that was required.

Her suggestion on form and length should have come with the request to draft the article. I wasted a good bit of my day writing the article, only to get specific directions after it was written. I replied to her email saying she should just finish it herself. It felt very good to do that. But I’ll stick with the clinic for a while longer to see how things go.

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Sheba is not eating like she usually does, but I see definite progress with the really bad foot. I looked at it carefully yesterday and saw that there was a problem between two of the pads of the foot. And it is, indeed, swollen. But the progress in healing I see is encouraging. I’m trying to get Zink into her, but she hates it. Tomorrow I’m going to try giving it to her in peanut butter.

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Steve (my ex) arrived in Vancouver yesterday. He’s there until Aug. 1, then he comes here for four days. We’re talking on FaceTime often. We’re both excited.

And today is Sunday. My no-guilt day. I’ll be reading, watering and harvesting Raspberries.