I did a little walking this weekend – I mean I try and walk every day, but I did the whole loop of Esquimalt on Saturday. It wasn’t a cold day – the temp is staying above 15 or so consistently so I think it may be safe to say that spring is officially here. Of course we have had snow as late as May in my lifetime, so one can ever truly be certain until June hits – and the wildfires start in earnest. But the point is that I had to take off my hoodie before I even made it to the first park!
There were lots of flowers and greenery, and quite a few birds working on nests for first or second clutches of eggs. Crows are definitely working on nests as there were several of them with beaks full of plant matter and dog hair. One had a pair of twigs and he kept trying to get a third and dropping his booty. Finally he did get all three and flapped off. I even saw one of the Ravens collecting. He was in the broom hedge, snapping dry twigs for the purpose – I almost missed him, but he yelled as I went by so I really had no choice but to observe and of course, praise his efforts. (One does not miss an opportunity to be kind to a corvid!)
Sunday I got to spend some time with Oona, who is due any moment and we ran into a guy who was wearing a t-shirt that said “Rabbit Dad”. I couldn’t help it, I said I loved his shirt, because not many people realise how great pets rabbits can be. He obviously thought he had a receptive audience, because stopped and talked to us for a bit, even showing us photos of his bunnies – both enormous lops with huge personalities. He is the crazy rabbit man equivalent of my crazy cat lady self and I could not fault the adoration he had for his critters. Also really refreshing that he wasn’t too shy to share his passion with complete strangers. I want more of that in the world! I think we should support the things people love.
Listening to: RM, Park Jiyoon – No.2 Reading: IQ84 – Haruki Murakami Drinking: Pomegranate and Ginger ale Word Count: 3254 Headspace: a strong north westerly
We went over the Malahat this Friday to visit mum and Joan for Easter. Honestly it’s because we had the opportunity since both J and I weren’t working, to see them both and less about Easter itself. (I made mum laugh out loud when I told her how rabbits fit into the whole holiday – she’s very much agnostic and loves a good religion joke now and then). We had lunch at the usual place and it was lovely.
It’s hard knowing that time is running out, you know? They’re both pretty fit and spry, but things are changing for them both and so we’ve started preparations for when they’re not in good shape anymore and it’s made me reflect on this kind of thing more than I really want to. No one wants to think about what happens next, you know? (Isn’t that the whole reason we invented religion in the first place? To explain the inexplicable?) I want to go up more frequently, to keep tabs on things. I worry about my mum living all alone in that apartment now that her eyes are not what they used to be. She’s been very forthright about what she wants the next step to be, so that has made things easier, but I also don’t want to pressure her into taking that step sooner than she’s ready for – but at the same time I have to be prepared in case one happens before the other, you know? Ugh.
I think it’s one of the most natural things for people to be afraid of change. There’s always some trepidation about what the future holds, because we simply don’t know. Going into the future without fear is a kind of Zen I haven’t mastered and I’m pretty sure most people haven’t. I mean I have anxiety for fucks sake, but even I can only plan for contingencies I can imagine – and I can imagine a LOT. That being said I think it’s good to let go of expectations. That’s not the same as standards, mind – but you can’t set yourself up for disappointment all the time. You have to just have to make a plan and see what life throws at you. It can be a lot of work to be ok with what does come your way, especially if it’s unexpected, or not what you wanted or worked for.
I would like to think I don’t have any regrets – I mean absolutely nothing has turned out the way I thought it would but I tried a lot of things. I still think I would like to be a student again, but I don’t know what I would go back for now – especially since I never stopped stuffing my head with random information. I get obsessed and have to know everything about a subject – a trait I’ve had since I could ask questions. I’m sure I exhausted more than one family member before I learned how to read. I originally wanted to be a scientist – but my talents lay elsewhere. Facts gave way to stories. Histories, real or imagined and that’s why I got a degree in writing and literature. I get asked a lot why I did it when I don’t use my degree, since I work in the field of finance and I just laugh because I do use it. Every damn day. That degree taught me more about the human condition than anything else ever did. It taught me how to think critically, and to look at all the perspectives of a thing. And one day I will finish a novel. Or all of them. There may be a few on the go >.>
I wanted to be a mother and I worked really hard to make that happen – first the universe gave me half grown step daughters, and then a whole bunch of miscarriages and then my twins who I miss in a way I am not sure I can ever truly describe. When I was pregnant with them, I joined a group on facebook for twins and befriended a woman who was also due at the same time I was. (I remember thinking there were a LOT of twins in the city at the time). We don’t talk as often now, for obvious reasons but she’s still my facebook friend. Her baby girls are 5 now. It seems like just yesterday I was sitting every day at the beach just waiting for my heart to stop hurting long enough for me to breathe, but it’s been five years. (!) I like to imagine an alternate universe where my babies did draw their first breaths, and grew up to be happy, chubby toddlers like these little cherubs. Maybe even that they were friends with these ones. Instead I have a box with the onesies they would have come home in and a sheaf of ultrasound photos.
I’d like to tell past me that things turned out ok, even if they didn’t turn out as expected. That change is inevitable, and that you can make the best of anything if you have the strength – and the support – to do so. Same goes for you too, dear reader. Things may be shit now, but it does get better. YOU get better.
On the way home I asked J to please stop at the park so I could take come pictures of the easter lilies. Even though he was too sore to walk around much we found the lilies – and a few other bits of spring. You know it’s spring on the island when the skunk cabbage flowers. Yes, it really does smell skunky, but they’re so bright and yellow and happy. There was a dog in the cabbage, so I didn’t post a pic of those, just the pretty white ones:
Listening to: Hope on the Street Vol 1 – J-Hope (It’s pure Sunshine, seriously. Go Listen) Reading: Rainier Maria Rilke Watching: Beacon 23 Drinking: Diabolica Reincarnation Red Word count: 5543 Headspace: a flower field somewhere in the multiverse
I opened the door this morning, to let in the Spring. It’s just about here in earnest I think. The forecast says there will be another cold spell before we get on with the warm season and I can still feel the bite in the air that speaks to that. Just a little damp needle in the wind. I’m not sad about that, but the light is nice. The green is hinting along the branches and the white blossoms of the cherry and plum trees flutter around like snow. Yesterday there were some purple crocus flowers in the neighbour’s lawn. Now I see there are some yellow and white today.
I made a wreath for the front door; the one that opens into the furnace that is our hallway. The second floor here is so hot all the time because of the hot water heat. I’ve always wanted to have a nice spring decoration for the door and I had a gift card for Michaels, so I went ahead and made it. It’s just pagan enough to please me and innocuous enough that the poor damaged people next door can’t really complain about it. I feel worse for her than I do for him as he’s volatile and hurtful and I feel like she takes the brunt of most of his rage. Judging from some of the yelling I have had the misfortune to overhear, I feel like they were or are affiliated with one of the less savoury of the Christian themed cults out there. Just last week he went OFF on the gardener for using a leaf blower, yelling and throwing things at him from the balcony. A grown ass adult can’t control his rage over that I can only imagine how the wife survives. Not sure what to do for her, or if that’s even something she’s open to as she doesn’t speak or look at either of us.
It’s a cleaning day, as Saturdays often end up being. We tend to make a mess through the week and I get the dubious pleasure of picking up. I do appreciate the end result though. Hubs will finish the vacuuming though because he’s said he would. Have to hold him to that! Of course, realistically the vacuum is going to sit in the dining room until next Thursday because that’s just how he functions. No sense in getting annoyed by it now, except he’ll have to do the whole thing again then. That’s the trouble with having three cat hair factories.
Of course, cleaning would be a whole lot more efficient if I weren’t distracted every five seconds by something: a cat, an idea that needs to be kept for later (I had a really good line yesterday and I forgot it!) or looking for the right nail to hang the wreath, etc. Anyway, I managed and even went for a walk in this beautiful weather. I only wore a hoodie instead of my jacket and had to take that off halfway down the hill because it was so warm. (I may also need new jeans, these ones seem a bit big now…) I took a couple of pictures – just look at this magnolia and the colour of that sky!
Also wrote a little. I’ve managed to do a bit every day for over a month now, so that’s something I can be proud of. I hauled out some of my university days writing thinking I used to be good at poetry, but no. Not really. I was getting good. I should have kept at it because I really would be good now. My trouble now is that I’m biting off too large of topics and just running off into prose – but a bit of it seems like it may be relevant to le novel. Ugh that damn novel. I may also have had an idea to fix that corner I wrote myself into. (Plan people, learn from my mistakes!) I just have to keep at it. Stephen King says he does six pages a day – what he did not say was whether or not all six of those made it to the final novel, did he? You have to write the dross to get to the gold inside it.
Listening to: Spring Day – BTS Reading: IQ84 – Haruki Murakami Headspace: Sakhalin Island Word Count: 3245 Drinking: Malbec/Merlot
I got up this morning and when I tried to brush my hair I couldn’t. So I slouched into the living room, booked a hair appointment and went. I got the girl to chop it all off. She took off a good 11 inches or so but I tell you, my head feels so much lighter. Not to mention: sexy curls! I’m not totally sold on the way she cut the front yet, but it’s still a major improvement to the little miss frumpy-locks I was sporting there. Mission accomplished!
On my way up to the mall I saw a snail on the sidewalk. (You’re probably thinking something along the lines of “who the smeg cares, it’s a snail, moving on!”) But this is the first time in a while that I’ve actually see one that was actually alive and mobile which says good things about the way the weather is going. Not to mention the fact that the magnolias were blooming profusely on the road up to the mall.
‘course, the whole trip would have been better if I’d not managed to bash my knee on a cement thing in the mall. Yet more evidence of my Klutziness. (Ok, ok, fine. I should stop reading and walking, I get it!)
Things that made me smile yesterday: The man who came in to buy ten Euros with which he was going to tip a waitress who was going on a trip this coming summer.
listening to: Kosheen – Face in the Crowd
reading: Encyclopedia of Forensic Science: A compendium of detective fact and fiction – Conklin, Gardner, Shortelle
Word count: nil
word of the day: contusion
project of the day: laundry, a birthday party
feeling: slightly apathetic
headspace: The Leap Islands