C Market Coffee

I was inspired to get off the couch when Laura texted me that she, her sister and brother in law had gone for a Sunday drive to Squamish.  Madigan and I had walked in the neighborhood but here was an opportunity to get out. They laughed because that’s what ‘old people did.’ They used Molly the dog as camouflage.I decided on a local Sunday drive with Madigan.

I’m glad we did.  I found C Market Coffee with its outdoor seating.  There are so many terraces and patio’s in the city, especially on Commercial .  In the ‘burbs’ there aren’t as  many. Also the people watching isn’t nearly as exciting.  Still this is a find.

Fabulous coffee and as elegant cafe dining as could be desired.  It’s minimalist and light. The eggs Benedict had sold out this Sunday morning.  The menu is excellent for breakfast, brunch and lunch.  Lots of take out too,.  \

Despite having re purposed a bit of parking it was quiet and the air was cleaner than the city.  

We’re happy. The Egg Croissant with avocado, egg, lettuce, tomato and bacon was delicious .  Madigan was there to help with some of the bacon too. The Coffee bun was moist and delicious.  I felt like I was back in one of my San Francisco or New York haunts.  

As a dog owner I’ve become dependent on Blenz and Starbuck’s outdoor seating for destinations with my dog. I’ve been an epicurean snob and loved the atmosphere that Starbucks capitalized on. The American diner is fine now but when trucks stops and fast food joints were the only offering of coffee, the higher priced coffee was worth it for the ambience and conversation.  

Madigan likes it here too.  Who would have guessed. He likes coffee cake. 

 

Morning Limbo

I’m in limbo today. The aftermath of a full Halloween weekend with lots of exercise and activity.  I thought of going to church but remain ambivalent. I don’t know what to wear. 

I woke at 530 from a frightening dream.  A low life troll character in a beat up old car had stopped on the bridge, probably Granville.  He’d tried to steal my hard maroon  combination brief case. It was the one I had as a student. At this time i didn’t know what was in it. My valued student things from then, the Texas Instruments calculator, notes.  Or it could be Secret papers.  Stacks of money. My life savings.  I’d escaped the initial lunge and was rapidly backing up glad he was alone

When I woke suddenly I felt my physical vulnerability. The tenuousness of physical reality.  ‘Fear of economic insecurity will leave us,” hasn’t fully worked with me. I still have that fear that at times tormented my father in his final years as he worried about being cut off his pension.  He deeply mistrusted the Trudeau government. 

I also had that sense that I’d again been less cautious in public.  Showing any kind of success or wealth in this world attracts parasites. It’s the DTES on large scale. I’d enjoyed going out to the restaurant dressed fine wearing gold, trusting.  I’m older and a target for the theives.  I was lucky in the dream. There was only one. He had ropes too but his interest was money.  Kidnapping and theft and extortion. I’ve been in my head too much and not as situationally aware as I can be. The letting up of Covid restriction.  Going out to a restaurant and to a movie, being in the city, all are novel and I’ve not maintained the vigilance that was previously second nature. I think that was what the dream was saying. Also reminding me I like my ‘things’.  I’m still a materialist though spiritual. That brief case represented hours of extra work that allowed me to buy something that really was attractive and executive appearing but perfect for my needs at the time, carrying my notes and book and calculator and pens.  I have many little things like that whose value is in their functionality and selection.  I have one Swiss Army knife and one Leatherman that after countless trials of a life time are just the ones that suit my needs now. To another they are just a means to another hit of crystal meth or crack.

My next dream was apocalyptic. We were a group in my peninsula on the ridge where the hunting is. We were two groups in camps.  The other group was a family and I was with just a couple. We all had rifles and the other group had a collection of pistols. I’d been hunting meat and they’d been teaching their kids to shoot pistols target practising. I’ admired their weapons cases and a large amount of ammo.  The woman had asked me to transfer pictures of her kids to a different medium.  I had a computer base with Hamm and satellite.  It was post apocalyptic and I enjoyed the woman and the family. I’d not been able to do all she wanted there but would be able to do that more at  base camp with more equipment.  We were secure but someone was always on look out. The trucks were loading.  We were splitting up for the return to base camp. They  were up earlier and ready to go. I with my colleagues were late rising and waiting for coffee.  They were more vigilant with their children.  I was calm and not concerned.   Normally I’d been alone in the wilderness or with immediate friends and family out patrolling and aware of the danger. Now I felt I wasn’t alone but that others, like this family, we’re becoming aware and preparing. 

The dog jumps on my face and wants me to get up. Our routine is for me to to take out the garbage and walk him till he poops. .It was very chilly, clear sky, frosty. He pooped and we came home. I actually meditated for a little time, did stretches and sit ups. Now I  am on my second cup of coffee and feeling better.  

I feel in limbo.  I’m at that end of career pre retirement place. I think another 5 years of work would be fine but I want a longer break and I don’t. I’m content doing the same old same old routine, work easy like an old shoe. The difficulty is getting there,  Getting dressed and out is the difficulty.  Day by day I do the next right thing.  I want to travel more but that is all. Whether it’s here in Canada or the US with truck and RV or flying overseas doesn’t matter. I’d like to go to Aberdeen.  It’s an arbitrary calling.  Visit the land of my grandfather then return leaving as he did.  I had thought to leave the coast and return to the east or interior but right now I’m relatively content here. No place seems that much more secure.  

People I know and care about are dying.  The lights go out.  I miss Jean and John and George and Ron. There are others too.

In my uncertainty about the future I’m not quick to make new friends The friends that are dying are people I’ve known decades , the new friends I have are mere years in making.  I”m slow to trust with reason.  

I simply don’t know what more to do.  At one point this morning I woke and had a blank slate. I felt like I would likely feel retired.  I have nothing that needs doing today. I’ve a meeting but I skipped church and could skip the meetings as well though I look forward to the checking in as I once did on our Hamm radio off shore net. 

Everything else I could do is arbitrary. I have some chores and projects but they’re minor and nothing stops them from being put off.  I was pleased I got up and walked the dog. Now I’ve journaled.  I’m sluggish, My back hurts and I could go to the hot tub where there’s great relief or pop some naproxen or ibuprofen and feel relief as well. I don’t want to experience an upset stomach which occurs with the NSAIDS in time but I have some Tecta.  I can more than manage.  

I had a red dress I planned to wear for Halloween but couldn’t bring myself to go out to the Halloween party or the dance last night.  I watched Free Guy enjoying it from my couch, the dog happy I was home.  

I might have a nap and wake more ambitious or just read this morning,  Uncertaity and lack of direction,  The Meme said the ‘purpose of life is developing a relationship with Jesus Christ’. I’m certainly talking to him and listening, praying daily.  I’d meditate longer but cross legged my back hurts and yet the sitting is good for my knee and back. I think the riding so far on the Vespa yesterday strained it along with the extensive walking.  I’m stiff this morning. It’s a good stiffness.  

I suspect the elite have back aches but don’t realize them because their naked Asian masseuses give them a massage before their coffee. I would not feel pain if I rolled from bed into a hot pool then was greeted with a petite naked masseuse waiting  to walk on my back. Then I’d met with physiotherapist and chiropractor . Then maybe a swim.

I suspect my back wouldn’t ache in the morning if I was wakened to morning sex.  It’s a minor irritation that I focus on because of the lack of distraction. 

I’m weary with generating activity. I feel at times as a kid on summer vacation when I’d like to ask my mom what should I do today but she had chores as an answer.  I wanted fun.  I could go to the art exhibit but then I think of Madigan. He mostly wants to walk which I may feel like doing more after the morning shower. Cadillac problems.  

Right now I’ll lie back and read.  

Thank you Jesus for this brief reprieve.

Buying Madigan a new jacket at Mr, Pets because it got so cold last evening after early dinner on Commercial at Kitchen Whisky Cafe. We had to wait for a taxi. We rode  down to Metro Vespa to leave the Vespa for a part replacement and tune up. The service department is great there.

Then we walked up to Commercial and ate burgers outside at Kitchen Whiskey Cafe. Great food, great service, great people watching. . It got chilly sitting.  A jazz band began to play in the park across the way .  I was texting with Laura about Evie being sick and on antibiotics.  Madigan was beside me enjoying his ‘extra patty’, He actually climbed into and sat in his morocyce box I’d been carrying by hand.  I was dressed for Halloween in leathers with red lipstick.  I saw a tiger and a princess and jester go by on Commercial. I got a thumbs up from those I passed.  I dress this way sometimes when it’s not Halloween. 

I’ve wondered recently at all the costumes I wear.  I’ m many characters or roles.  Even within each role there are variations, the sports jacket and jeans to three piece suit, the cammo jacket and pants to shorts ,the off shore sailing jackets and the shorts, the skirt and gown.  

Within all these I’m myself, talking to God, asking direction and protection. Show me the way Lord.

Samhain, All Saint’s Hallow Eve, Halloween

Another season begun, Samhain the Celtic festival heralds the end of harvest season and beginning of winter.  There was indeed frost on the grass this morning.  I did celebrate.

Yesterday was a very full day beginning with a long walk with Madigan along Brunette River where the salmon are running.  This morning I saw the Kingfisher, my personal ‘blue bird of happiness’.   Dead fish lie on the banks of the river pleasing the birds no end.  Madigan, which means ‘little dog’ in Gaelic,was very interested but also afraid of the dead fish we inspected. Gilbert, my previous Cockapoo, would have been madly rolling in the carcass. I can live with Madigan’s reticence. 

It was a beautiful Autumn morning, golds and greens and oranges with occasional red leaves.  A cacophony of colour!

It’s the time of the year where the realm of the living and the realm of those who have passed over are closest. No surprise we dream of deceased relatives and have all manner of uncanny other worldly experiences this time of year. Late teens the autumn seances  were particularly ‘moving’, Ouigi boards  and young passion.  Candlelight and darkness. I was involved with the Theosophical Society one fall and enjoyed their openness and enthusiasm.  Guy Madden’s My Winnipeg, a classic in it’s own right mentions the seances at the Manitoba Legislature with Premiers and prostitutes.  The prostitutes had streets named after them that remain today.    

Leaving Madigan with his bone I proceeded to the hot tub thanks to having 2 Pfeiser vaccinations and the BC government vaccination card.  The hot tub, though still without jets, was awesome. I even swam 14 lengths which would be widths in a regular pool.  Walking in shorts and just a towel a woman outside said, “You’re brave!”  The air was still chilly.  I showered and shampooed and conditioned my hair with the ‘special’ blue shampoo and healing scalp conditioner my Chatters hairdresser insisted I use.  It cost enough that I believe it must be producing the new hair, I truly need. Mine is disappearing with age but what I have I now flaunt.   I simply love the grey blond effect she’s achieved giving me the illusion of youth in my concerted refusal to age now that I’m finally old. I can’t believe I ever wanted this but then I’m not sure I’d have anything different.  Perhaps a life supply of Botox, a  facelift and possibly a new identity. I love Leonard Cohen’s song Lover, Lover, “I want a new face”. 

Halloween is a time for masquerade so I began the process of dressing in the afternoon.  I remember as kids we dressed up as different characters. One year my aunt having travelled to Cairo sent me an Igal, the Arab Head ring that is used with the Keffieh.  That became the basis of my Halloween costume that year and for several years I wore it at Christmas in the Baptist church nativity plays.  I was a ‘headdress’ in for a Shepherd given I had the costume.  When I was growing up the kid with the Igal and Kefieh got the shepherd role just like the kid with the goalie pads got to be goalie.

As an young adult I remember a particularly cold Halloween in Winnipeg when I wore a white bedsheet as a diapers and sucked soothers between sips of scotch which was definitely needed to warm me up. 

It was late seventies when. Paul Tyzek, the famed Winnipeg Photographer and Artist, took his first pictures of the theatre sign for the first showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show. The British play had debuted in 1973 and the film opened in New York in 1975.  Paul invited me along for his late night shooting.  Somewhere in storage I still own a copy of one of those pictures featuring him as photographer in front of the theatre definitely ahead of his time in Winnipeg.   Famed Science Fiction writer, William Gibson, created a character in one of his books who like Paul had an uncanny capacity for originality. Unfortunately with all originals, one step ahead of the crowd you’re a leader, two steps ahead of the crowd you’re a martyr. 

Now it’s many Rocky Horror Show Pictures later in which I have gone to the theatre in imitation of Dr. Frank N. Furton, my favourite character. Not just because I’m a doctor. I adapted  old black see through witches costume for first audience participation and each year brought that witches costume out. Coupling it with  Goth makeup, fishnets and high heeled boots I had a sufficient imitation. I certainly wasn’t mistaken for Magenta or Columbia.  I even remembered confetti, squirt gun and newspaper on occasion.  I confess I was more often just struggling with walking in high heels and being in costume to give much attention to other details until I was thankful to take my seat and join with the other cult followers in  shouting “Asshole’ and “Slut’” on cue.  It really was a riot.  

This year it was at the Rio again.  The late night showing was however too daunting.  I had thoughts of going. I was better dressed having lost the witches costume some decade ago.  Instead  I  made it  to near by Dune.   I was definitely the only Goth punk transvestite at that show but no less welcome. I think cross dressing for Halloween in Vancouver is no longer considered anything but conventional.  If you look particularly awful,at most people think you’ve been shopping at Walmart.

I had earlier in the evening,wearing my long leather jacket, makeup and bodice, ridden my Vespa with Madigan on the back to the nearby off leash park.  (That chilly ride made the thought of riding downtown additionally daunting.) There were at least a half dozen or more dogs with owners standing about talking dogs. Madigan and I were welcomed though Madigan was very shy around the bigger dogs having difficulty going far from my side. He did like a little terrier and a labradoodle but the young black lab mix was having his dominance issues and Madigan huddled between my nylon covered legs.  He didn’t care if I was mommy or daddy just demanded famial protection. Meanwhile I was worried about runs in my nylons. 

It was a good group though.  I left when a new German shepherd and his owner with issues arrived growling. The labradoodle and master followed us out saying “I don’t want to deal with my dog getting bit,.”  I certainly wasn’t dressed for a dog fight or more fearing silicone falsies slipping out  or breaking  painted gel coat nails.  

I believe all aggressive men should be required by judges to have a year of wearing painted nails, expensive nylons, and high heels to discourage them from fighting.  Repeat offenders could be required to always wear white in addition. 

Madigan was glad to get back on the Vespa.   After his excitement he was tolerant of me leaving as I headed out on the Vespa, circling the neighbourhood and  enjoying seeing groups of little children in various costumes with parents going door to door.    I stopped at Begbie’s Tavern for a cranberry and soda, showing my ID and Vaccination pass. Begby’s is a great neighborhood pub reminiscent of the South Putney pub I drank Guinness in when I lived near there in London.   Again no one seemed to notice my outlandish and I might say provocative attire.  I continued on to  Dune at the Coquitlam Cineplex.  I loved Heinlen’s Dune, a spectacular show.  It ended before the Rocky Horror Picture show even began. 

I was home before 12.  I did not turn into a pumpkin.   Feeling like I was back in theatre I removed my bodice, nylons, jewelry and face paint. I was one tired actor when I fell into bed happy to have the little dog cuddled up beside me.  In the night I dreamed I was with my deceased family again waking today happy in the reassurance that we’ll meet again. Samhain. All Saint’s Day.  Hallow’s Eve and Halloween.    

  

Monogamy

In Africa and Asia the idealized ‘marriage’ was the ‘big man’ and the ‘many wives’ or ‘harem’. 

Celtic culture introduced the relatively ‘monogamous’ ‘family’ unit in ancient days in the area in the northern parts of India.  

There have been multiple alternative arrangements with sex without contract, nightly, lifelong and communes, polygamy and women with multiple husbands.  The later was noted by anthropologists in the Polynesian Islands and is occurring today again in poly armoury societies.

Monogamy was indeed a ‘sexual contract’ which served to define the issue of responsibility for children.  Children were highly prized in agricultural societies as a principle tool of labour and the backbone of the military.  Industrial Age reduced the value of the Mother and of Children.  

The ‘monogamous’ sexual contract was defined as ‘one body’ in the Christian church.

There was ‘no rape’ in marriage any more than a man or woman could accuse himself of ‘rape’.  In religious courts neither man or woman could refuse sex except for health reasons. In the Jewish community women could refuse sex during menses and this was also a time of ‘rest’ for women in tribal societies where there were superstitions and taboos.

The sin of Onan was ‘refusal to fulfill his ‘family contract’ in which he ‘spilled his seed’ rather than impregnate his deceased brother’s wife. It had nothing to do with ‘masturbation’ except in the dirty minds of sexually perverse Victorian era theologians,

Given the patriarchal nature of society women were less in a position to complain of their husbands not having sex than men who could and did complain if women didn’t have Sex and especially if they didn’t have babies.  Wise women with infertile husbands were quick to overcome this with affairs and ultimately the ‘chastity belt’ was developed to counteract this proclivity.

Today 50% of children of divorcee by DNA testing are not the father’s.  “Breeding’ is not a term much heard these days but was the back bone of a society steeped in the wisdom of animal husbandry.

The industrial revolution changed everything. Further the rise of aetheism in the religion of Communism truly affected society since Marx and Lenin, Malotov, Stalin and Mao.

Then in this era the cultural Marxist variation of feminism introduced ‘my body, my own’ and a greedy legal system packed with sexually perverse judges introduced the idea that there could be ‘rape in marriage’ annulling religious and state marriage contracts to promote their own ‘legal brand of marriage’, ‘the only ‘marriage’ contract that remains in tact today, call ‘premarital contract’.  

Now sex was an assigned ‘function’ of marriage and contractually the frequency of the service was available for discussion.  Men and women today ‘contract’ for weekly or twice weekly sex on average. When the ‘committment’ to sexual frequency or ‘activity’ lapses the contracts is forfeited in the same way as a property left empty may pass to the squatters or a wallet left on the side of the road be the property of the finder by common agreement after a suitable time.  The stray dog and the stray wife or husband have similar contractual relevance.

Cause for divorce has included no sex for a year.  The question is why a year.  Adultery was cause for divorce with ‘blame and shame’ attached but ‘sins of ommission’ normally called ‘negligence’ are as heinous as ‘sins of commison’ well evidence in the Nuremberg trials coined the ‘banality’ of evil.  

Obviously the ‘quality of sex’ is an issue as the grass is always greener where it’s watered.  

Three months without sex and no obvious illness could well be the ‘breech of contract’ rather than the present ‘year’ . It has been so sad to meet so many men and women who say they have not had sex for years. Where children are involved men will commonly say that they ‘tolerate’ the situation for the ‘sake of the children’ as women will say they remain in a sexless marriage ‘for the children’. These folk are obviously lousy lovers but quite likely good parents. Each individual has roles.

Historically temple priestesses and priests and today’s male and female prostitutes made up the difference

“Ethical Slut’ is a delightful read on sex and relationships low on morality but fine on ethics.  

How long must a couple entwine naked each weak for optimal health, Likely hours as opposed to the minutes in the corporate consumer society of today.  Sex often in the only ‘skin to skin’ contact of partners and yet ‘skin to skin contact’ is a principle emotional stabilizer.  

Given the ‘gay marriage’ and so many ‘single partnerships’ without children there is a new need for ‘prenuptial agreements’ which lawyers are thronging to meet.  Having a ‘year’ or a ‘5 year’ contract with renewable options’.  Having a number of ‘infidelities’ listed rather than the ‘abstenence’ contracts, a kind of ‘harm reduction’ marriage where a ‘fling’ once every month, year or decade is agreed could be arranged

Monogamy was described as ‘why eat hamburger out when I can have steak at home”.  But while that is idealistic the question arises ‘when the cupboards are bare?”

In geriatric sexual research it was shown that the ‘friendship’ of marriages might remain but one of the pair might no longer like sex in as much as they give up liking to travel.  Studies of 50 year marriages showed that a third had a ‘discrete’ affair or fling.

Transexuals, gays and lesbians are now seeking the long term relationships given that the shallow superficial relationships of the times when the gay community revolvers around the ‘bar’ have gone and gay couples populate churches and politics.  What will the ‘rules’ be.

‘Writing our own vows’ is presently at that fairytale flowery state but once the romance with re inventing the wheel is gone the ol ‘sickness and health’ will need to be addressed. Is it okay to ‘fuck aroud’ if your partner is confined to an iron lung?  Or should you leave her and remarry and carry on the dynasty?  

So far I’ve heard no ‘vows’ at modern marriage that address any of the key issues of marriage that were the fabric of my marriage therapy practice.  Who pays when the one partner takes the cushy low paid job while expecting the other partner to maintain the hard high paid job.  

If you don’t want vaginal sex what stops oral sex. What’s wrong with anal sex when birth control pills have ‘side effects’.  It’s all very well to claim the car foesn’ work but why can’t we bicycle to work, 

Sex is work.  

Falling in love is very different from staying in love.  Romance novels are pornography. Female masturbation is called ‘pampering’ with the foreplay in the female pornography genre called ‘erotica’, going on ad infinitum whereas in the male pornography the couple meets and the whole movie is intercourse and orgasm.  

In communism there is one sex.  There is one gender. All is subsumed by worship of the state.  

The Pope said that sex in marriage is sacrament,

Despite this , it is the 21st century, the government still punishes and fines sexual medicine specialists for saying the word ‘fuck’ Indeed the puritan government administrative doctors  discourage the front line experienced clinicians from discussing patients sexual problems with doctors all the while viagra sales sky rocket along with divorces and sexually transmitted diseases persist. Most recently with lockdown and pandemic government doctors are promoting ‘glory hole’s ,  The courts have reach a level of absurdity never before seen. 

 PM Trudeau said the elected state’ had no business in the bedrooms of the nations’ opening the door for the appointed judges of Canada to perversely enter into threesomes and orgies.  The perversion of the courts with their unnatural involvement in sex  is today far worse than the old catholic priest voyerism  exposed by Bishop Spong. Meanwhile pedophilia in high places continues to be protected not surprising since the ‘sale’ of children was once a home busieness in the days of slavery before today’s white washing of the old institution. 

As extension of the Industrial Age Chinese Sex Robots are flooding the market replaced the less than satisfactory object of desire, the famed blow up doll.  Personally I bought mine to use as a dummy passenger allowing me to use the ‘fast freeway lane’.  I’ve worried ever since that a new kind of ambulance chasing lawyer might not offer to represent blow up dolls who were not used like the countless vibrators in bottom drawers.  The markets expand to fill the space once used by the monogamous marriage contract.  

Engles and Marx wanted to destroy the family as it threaten the worship of the State.  Marriages have delayed consumer decisions as the corporatism a communist spin off loves to pit themselves, the Borg, against the individual consumer rather than facing the Picard .  The federation has been the political equivalent of marriage different from the tyrannies of like name.

What’s love got to do with it! Sang the great blues rock singer.

Hope and Despair

“I hear a lot of despair,”  I said.

‘There’s not a lot of hope out there. Where can a person find hope these days? He said.

We were thankful for the meeting we’d attended.  The media however just spat fear and threat, disinformation and lies.  

‘I’m not riding any more,”  he said. “Used to put 20,000 a year on the bike but now I’ve got a muscle car.” He said. 

“I’m still wondering what I’m going to do when I grow up.  People ask if I’m retiring but frankly I’ve not got anything better to do.”  I said, moving towards the door and the night air.  We were all wearing masks and it wasn’t a bank or an OR.

“I’m retiring in a year or two.  The wife and I have enough.  We could want more but we’ll get by with what we have. We like our life as it is today.”  We’d walked outside and continued the conversation on the street.  It had just raine.

“I’d thought to sail across the Atalantic but I’m feeling older and don’t know if I have the strength to solo with a boat the size of mine. I thought to travel more but with all the restrictions that’s not looking that appealing.  I’d really like to go back to Scotland, maybe visit where my grandfather grew up.”

“We did a cruises of the island, Ireland Scotland.  We really enjoyed it. We like to travel.  I expect to fo more.”

“I”ve a camper and a truck and I’d really just like to drive around vistting place, writing and sitting around campfires.”

“I liked the cruise but I’d rather travel about on land too.”

“Until the borders open up again there’s not much reason to change anything. I like going to work and walking the dog,”

“Me too,”

“I still think having a sex change might be better.”

“I don’t envy the tough life women have.”

“Not the mothers for sure.  The girls have it pretty easy for all their complaining but the women,especially the mothers have it tough. I don’t regret my life till now. It’s been pretty incredible but I think whether I’d like to be an old man or old lady in retirement, The women seem to do a lot better. I’m not sure I want to be an old man.”

‘What’s wrong with being an old man.”

‘They’re bitter and grumpy.”

“Are you bitter and grumpy.”

“No.”

“Well. “

We parted then.  It was good to talk I got on my bike and rode off into the night thinking about options.  The whole ‘identity issue’ with retirement.  My identity was my work.  So if you’re going to shed an identity or role why not make a hole change.  

The Donovan song keeps haunting me. “The doctor bit was so far out.  Looking through crystal spectacles I believe I had your fun,”

I felt I did something, that what I did had meaning. I felt I’d saved thousands from suicide.  I’ stopped addiction and lessened pain,. It was never alone but part of this movement called ‘life’.  I delivered babies,  But now I’m disillusioned,  The employer said it’s “just a job.”  The ones most rewarded are the ones who save the most money and give the least. Euthanasia pays more than preventing suicide.  Abortionists are better recompensed and treated than the obstetricians,  Maybe once I I worried about being good and going to heaven and doing penance maybe. Not now, I know God loves me and I’m a good man.  But I feel duped. All the nights and years I worked overtime for free, all the service I did above and beyond, well, now I know the government took that money we saved ad gave it to their cronies and instead of more clean water, more surgical units, more health measures, they just gave their friends jobs and those friends of government are the criminals, murderers and drug dealers and pedohiless.  

I find myself questioning my life.  I’m at that ‘retirement’. ‘Identity crisis’ place.  I realize that my work made me feel I was ‘good’ but in retirement morality isn’t what it’s about.  It’s a time of survival.  We all say nice things about the dead.  Then we move on,  It’s a time of hope and despair.

  

New Day and God

I woke this morning before the alarm. I reached out for the furry one whose presence comforts me and reassures me till contact causes him to believe it’s time to jump on my face. I am working on stopping this. It’s a shocking way to wake.  I love him. He’s only a year and still a puppy.  Madigan is my room mate, friend, companion.  A therapy dog in training.  

He doesn’t usually shut off.  Cockapoo’s shut off around two years old.  If I play with him he wants to keep playing.  There’s never ‘enough’ unless I draw the line.  Attention deficit disorder with dependent personality traits coupled with manic depressive tendencies and a touch of anti social behaviour.  He’s a dog. I’m a dog.  We are animals joined to the spirit of God.  Together we are growing.  St. Francis called his body ‘Brother Ass”.  

Our first activity after we hit the loo is to ‘walk the dog’.  Walk the body.  Move the donkey. My body feels aches and pains and rickety and that morning walk is always uplifting. Even now in the cold rainy pre dawn darkness I enjoy breathing.  

I’m thanking God from the minute of awaking.  This Tron like creation, 3d Matrix existence, art remembering art, reality a construct. I am God, you are God, God is all.  I am the little light of the big light. The little bang of the Big Bang.  I’m interconnected with the fabric of existence. All the evidence of elements and vortices and whirls and motion and computer generated space all say that I am a thought in the greater thought.

Creator.

Designer.

Writer.

In the beginning was the Word.  God is that mother ship and I am the saucer, my eyes and my experience part of the whole.  

Time is now.

The motion of all directions is relative.

Owen Barfield, ‘Saving the appearances’.  All the reductionism and control that people use to avoid the sacred.  We are creatures on a planet whirling around the sun in a galaxy in the armpit of the universe.

It’s still glorious. Like a child looking at pond sludge through that first beginner microscope. I’ve known awe. Over and over and over again I have been touched by joy.

I have loved the orgasm of experience like a total consciousness explosion not unlike that lust releasing creative burst of pent up loins in the embrace of a lay promising recreation. I have worshipped goddess both fertile and barren.

I have worshipped all the Gods and the one true God. God of God, very God of Very God.  

I am seeking God in every breath I take.

Jesus Christ, the historical man and the Holy Spirit, the fabric of the universe , the presence and promise. I breathe in and I breath out.  Jesus Christ.  God within and God will come again. I am ever playing hide and seek with God.

I once thought God wasn’t present in my masturbation or my vengeful thoughts. Now I know that love is all. Just as Bach uplifts and tribal music incites the sense to rebellion today I seek for the heavenly knowing that those who find heaven are no longer naive.  Perhaps the innoscnt child but the ignorant is not going to know heaven on earth.  There are consequence.  The more I am inhuman and inspectoid the less I can know the celestial spheres. I love that soft heart place within that causes me to cry in empathy with other sufferers.  

Kiekegaard said, “Life is suffering until death’.  To live is to suffer.  

I can dance and sing and serve and still I suffer.

Anxiety is a measure of one’s distance from God and equally a measure of one’s humanity.  

Existential angst.

Now older I face death, an intellectual construct. Just because others die does not mean I must.  I can be the exception. I also can know death as a passage, from this cocoon state to the butterfly state beyond.

Matter is slow energy. Death is a leaving of the body I have invested with soul. I am a hitchhiker.  I may pass to another body or another way of existence.

Yet today I linger on regrets of earthly matters.  Court things. You are poor if all you have is money. I have some kudos and some titles and some status whereas once I was young and had confidence but no real cause for my courage and fearlessness.  Today I still see what I lack and must force myself to praise and gratitude. I have been blessed.

Just for today. Yesterday is a memory. I can rewrite the feeling state and sing the body electric. I can celebrate my existence. It’s been a good life. I have learned so much and forgotten more. I have served and lived and loved.  I am titled and rich in experience and have had so many skills and learned so many lessons.  I still seek God.

The Creator. The script writer. I long to know the producer. I want to meet the mind beyond.  I will in death no doubt but now in the last third of life I would be more in tune and in touch.I’d be more free.  Thy will be done.  I have done ‘my’ will and the ‘bondage of self’ has limited me.  Yet I do not wish to ‘go gently into that still night’ .  

Dance.

Laugh. 

Sing.

Keep moving until they throw dirt on you.

Thank you God for another day.  May I serve you this day as always.  Guide me.  

Celebrate! Celebrate! Dance to the music.  

I want to feel you in my step and in my voice.  I want to sense the music like a great cat as I move and hear the symphony of song in each word. I would Channel you God.  Lift me up on Eagle’s wings!!!! God of love and creation.  Thank you Jesus!

  

Gratitude, home,

I’m grateful to be back in my home. I’ve had a week of travel with family and a week of hunting in the camper with Laura.  Madigan was a going concern but now is settled down again in his usual haunts.  The routines are returning. I’m grateful for life and liberty.  I’m grateful for purpose and direction. I’m still feeling that I’m in a waiting room ready to be called, like a hockey player on the bench. I’m doing the next right thing. 

I take reassurance from the Hound of Heaven. I am seeking and present. It’s just that the relationship is in question. Not just the gender of God. I pray Our father but even that relationship is like the relationship with my own father.  We have a friend in Jesus. I was my father’s friend. My brother was more so. My brother’s relationship with his sons was more a friend.  I pray “Lord’.  That’s mostly my relationship with Mother God, Sister God, Friend. I have a friend in Jesus.  I’m more like my dog. He’s ever screwing up, climbing on the table, chewing the wrong thing, addle brained. He gets it right a lot and I experience joy in his company but he really is a nut bar. Maybe Master is my relationship to god, a kind of pet. A dog not a cat.

I’m thankful for the air and the scents. I am thankful for the sun and heat.  Thank you Jesus for sacrifice and service. Thank you for relationship and love.  

Thank you for our safety and that we have done all this travel and activity and are alive and well.  Thank you that Madigan is restored to health.  Thank you for his company.  Thank you that Laura is well. Thank you for my family, my sister in law, the nephews and great nephews. Thank you for their wives.  Thank you that we are all still muddling along despite the “wars and rumours of war” .

I long for clarity and guidance. I wish to know what it is I am to do. What is the next project. How much longer am I to work here and how may I do better. I feel I’m at the end of a game and can’t see the window opening as the door is closing.  I can imagine different scenarios.  Mostly I see myself doing the same. For now that’s okay. 

Thank you Lord for this day. My relationship is that of “lord and servant’.   Master and disciple.  Teacher student.  I have a friend in Jesus.  I would have God as lover.  

Egalitarian god.  God as a ‘pocket god’ as Philips describes in your God is too small. God as my servant.  Rescue me, serve me.  yet I pray ‘thy will be done’.  Acceptance.  

This life is sacred and I would know the surprise of joy and the mystery.  Lover God

Dawn

  

BC Hunting and Glamping along the Similkameen River,Riverhaven RV Park

Laura and I and Madigan love it here.  Riverhaven RV Camp is so well managed. Quiet, clean, friendly.  There’s a beach by the river which we didn’t use this time.  It was really cold when we arrived but warmed up the next day with sunshine and blue sky for our stay.  The sunrises and sunsets have been spectacular. Their colour and the colour of autumn trees have been golds and oranges.  The pinks in the sunsets have been priceless.  

I have actually been getting up before dawn and most days made it out on the Honda Ranger 420 as the light came up. I ride the ATV from the camp and up a trail to the logging trails so I like some light to see my way safely at first.  Once I’m on the logging trails I don’t need the light so much. One morning it rained so I waited till it let up and was out at 8 am.  

The highlights have been the beauty of nature.  Such glory in autumn.  I didn’t shoot any game.  The deer were spooky and though I saw several I couldn’t ascertain if the two I thought were bucks had horns before they were gone.  Really exciting moments using binoculars and scope trying to confirm the sense.  I actually saw only one grouse. In my attempt to get Madigan involved, unleashing him from his three point restraint on the back of the ATV, the grouse took off. I did shoot a grouse like bush one evening. A vegan hunter. I didn’t eat my bush but continued home for barbecued smokies that night.  I saw one rabbit but again it was too spooky to stay and let me get my rifle.  By law you can’t have guns loaded on a vehicle so I have to stop, put the ATV in park, take the rifle from the carrier, load it, and hope the game I’ve sighted further up the trail waits for me to shoot.  The rabbit had no such patience.  It’s easier when I’m walking with Madigan to shoot game as I’ve a loaded rifle with safety on. The game was all too smart for me this time. 

The other highlight was a wolf crossing. I saw a cougar up in the hills the last time I was here. This time it was a big grey wolf.  Close encounters.  No so long I could get a picture but long enough for me to look into the eye of another predator.  I had a hawk swoop low over me too and saw lots of whiskey jacks and a few magpie as well as chickadees.

Madigan loved riding around on the ATV.  Whether we were going 40 to 50 km on the logging main or creeping along at 5 - 10 km/hr on the trails he was just the most enthusiastic puppy.  

We’d go for a walk and he’d be so keen to get back on the ATV and up on his seat.  In the morning he was ecstatic when I put on his sweater, jacket and harness on to get going.  We found an old loggers cabin in the backwoods along a stream. These finds are interesting.  I wondered if it might also be used as a skidoo warm up stop now though the construction is rather classic trapper construction.  The wire bed frames make it look more like a trapper cabin.  Some one else had a shack off the main. Looked more like a squatter, lots of mess and poor construction with scrap building materials.   Like something we’d see in town in Stanley Park.  Off the grid for a winter.  The trapper log cabin was a classic though. 

While Madigan and I are up in the high mountains, Laura is back in the camper sleeping in, reading, having coffee and toast.  The Riverhaven has city water hook up and the Adventurer camper has a hot water tank and heater.  There’s grey water and black water sewage hook up.

She likes the clean and easy to keep clean shower and toilet arrangement. I had the most luxurious hot shower in the evening, washing shampooing and conditioning my hair.  The propane heater worked just fine but we also had a little electric heater, 250 versus the normal 500 space heater.  It takes little electricity but is back up for the propane.  I wasn’t sure how long our two propane tanks would last but as it turned out despite being used for warmth and cooking we hardly used a half tank over 4 days. 

 Each night I barbecued. Our propane and electrical refridgerator and freezer keeps everything so well.  I barbecued boneless chicken the first night and had them with finger potatoes, sour cream and butter.  I had the same potatoes when I barbecued steaks.  We had Caesar salad as well.  The last night was barbecued smokies. One afternoon I came home and Laura made bacon sandwiches and scrambled eggs. The Camper propane stove does everything though I’ve not used the oven much. One of these days I plan to make some bread. 

Again we were stationed by the river. Laura loved looking out on the Similkameen watching fish jump and the occasional duck swim by.  While we were away she’d walk around the park and down to the beach. She always felt safe and liked the family who run the camp.  Each evening she’d have some comments on the eccentricities of neighbours.  We’d share stories over dinner. 

Today we’re dropping off the Honda Ranger for storage at Chilliwack RV storage and carrying on with the Adventurer Camper to leave it at Frazerway in Abbotsford, the dealer where I bought it, where these campers are made.   A few weeks back I hit a pothole or a boulder and the tie down to the camper broke when the back end of the camper lifted and smashed down doing some damage to the corner. The insurance appraiser for Guardian came by and now I just need to leave it with Frazerway. It was a fluke accident on a dusty road only going 30 km with a train of trucks behind me annoyed with my slow speed.  I’ve arranged with a hitch place to fix the truck connector which broke at the welding. I’m going to ask if they can come up with something better to avoid a future problem. Harrison East logging road is a main but it’s a particularly hard road because of the traffic.  

We’ve had a terrific time.  ATV’ing on logging roads with steep precipice drop offs to the side requires focus and concentration.  It’s a marvellous distraction that keeps one’s mind on the present.  I normally with work have so many things and many unpleasant on my mind so just atv’ing with the great companion dog is a wonderful relief.  I loved the photography. The nose candy scents were sweet. Cut wood smells where they’d been logging, hemlock and pine, the musky scents by river.  Here and there a real fragrance like a man’s cologne.  Old spice or Navy scents that the best French perfumer have yet to capture.  Beyond Chanel.  I just stopped often and breathed.  Madigan and I also had great coffee breaks with the hot coffee thermos when we’d share a granola bar.  Funny guy likes coffee and granola. I share the granola but he licks the thermos or cup if I’m not careful. 

I would have liked to have shot some game but still I can’t complain about a fabulous wilderness vacation spot with a glamping Riverhaven RV park juxtaposed with the ultimate backwoods wilderness trails. In the summer there were hikers and cyclists.  Laura said one couple took off after me on electric bikes.  There were a few hunters with ATV like me and we admittedly competed as to who would get going first in the morning.  A lot of the other rigs were just here enjoying camping, sitting around fires at night. I’ve been coming here for decades but it’s best now with the new management. 

People who care make all the difference.  When I’m out here in the woods I love my fellow man because things like the smooth running and upkeep of this campground depend on a family that cares. My Honda keeps me alive. Ruger makes the rifle I can depend on. Frazerway makes the Adventurer camper that gives us a home away from home experience with all the amenities.  I was able to use my iPhone 12 from the top of the mountain letting Laura know my lat and long when I was up Evans road. Though I had my Nikon most of my pictures are taken with the iPhone 12 skookum camera. Every piece of equipment shows the care and love of conscientious workers and thoughtful people.  I have a lot of gratitude when I’m camping. In the city I can take things for granted and the stupidity of politics and administrators can obscure the amazing feats of progress. William Shatner was actually in space last week.  Meanwhile I was looking at a trappers cabin, the kind that have been used in the Canadian wilderness for three hundred years or more.  

It’s been a great long weekend end. Thank you, Creator god.

Quad versus Side by Side for hunting

First, 500 cc is enough power for hunting needs for one person.  I’ve had Polaris 500, Yamaha 450, Honda Pioneer side by side 500 and now I’ve a Honda 420 Rancher They have all been great machines.  

The advantage of the Pioneer side by side was the roof and enclosure. I was hunting a lot with a friend and two big guys riding on a quad doesn’t do it.  A little girlfriend, a dog, or a child works just fine.  The Pioneer was perfect.  We had sufficient room for us and our gear and the dog.  It was perfect in cold weather because the enclosed inside heated up from the engine heat.  The windshield was great in rain.  It was however like having a little ‘car’ in the backwoods. Before I could afford ATV’s I hunted on foot, stalking, in ambush and only had a Broncho or a Sport truck.  I felt like I was driving a little Jeep in the side by side, cut off from nature. It was the same when I had a side car motorcycle. The ‘experience’ of two wheels was missing.  With a quad I feel like I’m riding a horse.  Hunting with an enduro motorcycle required too much attention to the road whereas the quad lets me look all around.   

If one is mainly taking passengers then the 750 or 800 might be better. We found the 500 Pioneer sufficient. To my mind nothing  beats the quad as a hunting platform..  It’s has the joy of an off road  motorcycle but gives the stability for looking about while driving. It’s easier to park the quad or side by side than a two  wheel when game is sighted and you go for the bow or gun.  For comfort stick with a truck

My old cockapoo partridge hunting dog preferred the truck. When I’d unloaded the Pioneer he would jump back in the truck. He liked the comfortable seating. The side by side seats are like cafeteria chairs and probably would benefit a cushion. I can sit all day on the quad.   I definitely could hunt more comfortably in snow and rain with the Pioneer but I could dress for the Quad and be more in tune with the environment.That’s why I went back to the quad. 

I love the Honda 420 rancher because it’s lighter weight. I can do 50 km/hr  backwoods with it and 60 km/hr with the 450 and 500 but I ‘m not racing when I’m hunting.  Mostly I’m travelling at 10 to 15 km/hr. I’ve carried deer on the 450 and my friend carries moose out on his. So far I haven’t had to face the problem of carrying out moose with the 420 Rancher.   I’m hoping to put my Rancher to the test and believe it will be up to it.  So far I’ve only had it this year and it’s only had to carry me, the dog and  grouse and rabbit.

With regard to accessories, I had a windshield on the Polaris and admit that was sweet in rain and snow. I had chains for the Polaris and that was especially good in snow. I don’t like hunting in heavy snow now.  If I wanted to do this more I’d get a snowmobile though the Polaris with chains worked really well.  I don’t have a lighter /USB charging port on this Rancher and expect I’ll have one installed. That was on my previous machines and I really appreciated it. 

I did have hand guards added to the Rancher and missed the heated handles I had on the Yamaha. The Honda tires that come with their machines have all been sufficient but there’s an even more gnarly set I’ll probably upgrade to one day.  I had hard box luggage compartment on the back of the Yamaha and Polaris and loved it.  I could have gone with that again but instead chose soft Kolpin bags. The hard compartments were a thousand range whereas the soft which works great were only a couple of hundred dollars. 

I really do like having the stacking square gas tank. I used to carry a spare can buggy corded onto previous machines. This is way superior.  I have had the gun clamps on all my quads whereas the rifles and shotguns stood in the Pioneer much like they do in the truck.

I carried a chain saw mounted to the back rack but the mud splash was an issue. I used it only once or twice.  Now I’ve a folding saw and axe I take along. 

I had a muffler which reduced the sound on the Yamaha but after a couple of years it rusted out. I don’t know it was that much of an improvement. 

I did have a WARN winch installed on the front of the Rancher with the Honda kit.  It’s the third WARN winch I’ve had on my machines. I ‘ve used it to pull trees out of my path. It helped me pull up quarters of elk from down a ravine. That last deer I shot from the truck, Wel,  I had to use the winch from the Yamaha to get it from the ground into the truck bed. I’d loaded the ATV that night early and was driving out at dusk when I saw the deer and shot it. I expect I’d have had to quarter it to get it into the truck bed without the help of the ATV winch.  

I’m an older guy now.  It’s been decades since I carried a deer down a mountain side on my shoulders. When I was young I carried moose and deer on pack boards out of the woods for miles. I ranged everywhere and was in place in the dark before dawn and hunted till after dusk. Now my knee and back hurt and carrying my rifle a mile or two is work. I used to carry a pack sack too with thermos and such. I like that the ATV carries all that.   That last mule deer I shot just driving in my truck, a couple of hundred meters from the logging road, just about did me in getting it back to the road onto the truck  So now I’m ‘road hunting’. I may ride or walk but I’m looking for animals that are close to the road.  

I got more game when all I did was stalk and sit in ambush but I have a hell of a good time riding the Honda 420 Rancher on the trails.  I’d be an old fool if I shot anything too far from a road today It took me all day to get the quartered elk out to the road.  Besides the grouse and rabbits prefer the logging road.   I’m happy enough to shoot them. The dog’s just as excited.  The truth is my Honda 420 Rancher makes for a great hunting experience.  People who don’t even hunt get them to ride around in the backwoods.  That’s how much fun they are.

Holiday Inn and Suites, Kanata, Ontario

This is a superb hotel.  The service when we arrived was excellent, friendly, welcoming.  We were staying there for a wedding. We’d miss-booked our time and needed an extra day. Realizing the error a day before they were wonderfully accommodating when I phoned.  

Given it was Covid everyone was practicing proper procedures, masks and cleanliness.  Just doing the right thing. Nothing overboard or intrusive.  Legal and responsible.  It all felt right.  Reception was even extremely welcoming of our little cockapoo Madigan.  Dish water bowls for various sized dogs in the lobby even. 

The room was exceptionally clean.  The view of the city was terrific.  On the 7th floor we had incredible skyline views. We loved the sun and clouds each day with the glorious fall colours of the forest below.. 

Wi fi was great.  The television had regular channels and On Demand.  We watched several movies still in the theatre late evening. I walked the dog each morning and put in the complimentary breakfast coupon at Grafitti Restaurant. This was the icing on the cake.  Most ‘complimentary’ breakfasts are not the elegant delicious full meal fare that Grafitti provided.  You could have stayed in the lovely restaurant but we preferred having breakfast in the room so I’d order take out and pick it up after walking the dog.  Eggs Benedict first day was a treat. The maple flavored French toast a  creation.  Eggs Florentine another days was delicious. Then we settled for bacon and eggs or sausage and egg standard with toast and fruit.  Laura loved breakfast and a bath. I had a long shower before we dressed and headed out for the day.  

I left valuable my computer and iPad in the room and nothing was disturbed. Holiday Inn is that kind of safe.

Despite Covid I did get to use the hot tub and  family pool. There was an exercise area with lots of equipment but my work out was walking the dog.  There were lots of trails around the hotel.

Across the street was the Kanata malls extending for 3 city blocks. Lots of fashion and retail, Walmart, Best Buy, Canadian Tire, Marks and PetSmart.  There were a variety of restaurants like Milestones. I was even able to buy the perfect gifts for my genius nephews at Mind Toystore.  All within walking distance.  So convenient. The gas station we used to fill up last night before taking the 30 to 40 minute drive to the airport this morning was only 5 minutes from the hotel. Ottawa central was only 30 minutes drive on the freeway as well.

After days of weddings and family, when we weren’t eating out at the fabulous National Art Gallery Terrace restaurant or friendly delicious nearby Fratelli’s,  we had room service from Grafittis and loved the 5 star meals. After we had great sleeps on the comfortable beds waking to another day of activity.

Holiday Inn Kanata was a great find at a reasonable price with the best of thoughtful and friendly service from the front desk to Grafittis to the cleaning staff.  

Thank you Holiday Inn. I really wasn’t looking forward to travelling during Covid but you made the experience thoroughly positive.  Thank you!

Alan Hay and Megan Mardus Wedding

Alan Hay is the youngest of my nephews.  Son of my deceased brother Ron whose presence I’ve felt all week.  

Megan Mardus and Alan Hay were in England during Covid and made it home thankfully.  Alan’s a child psychologist and Megan, a forensic  research psychologist.  Their wedding last year was cancelled due to Covid.  They’re staying at Hay Bay for now.  This year due to the vaccinations their wedding could go on  at Grange de la Gatineau, Queb4c.  The Grange was a bed and breakfast before covid.  A lovely location.

At Andrews wedding Adell had all the boys get the Hunting Hay kilt, a blue tartan.  For Alan’s wedding the boys were all in the modern Royal Hay Tartan.  My first kilt some 30 years ago was the ancient orange Hay tartan. Next I had the Modern Hay tartan.  Then the Hunting Blue for Andrew’s wedding.  I’ve found that the kilts shrink as I grow older. 

I brought the hunting blue  kilt but Adell saved the day by having me wear Ron’s kilt which had 2 more inches of girth. Covid has not been kind to my pear shape,  Ron’s kilt was a god send.  Adell dressed me in Ron’s cumberbund, bow tie, formal shirt, and  black sporran which matched the other nephews.  My white socks and Prince Charley jacket was all  that  passed mustard with the mother of the groom.  Laura said after I looked dashing.  The Sean Connery look.  I’ve always loved Laura’s generosity.  She loved lovely in a black and pink cocktail dress.  

I was really thankful for Ron’s kilt as it meant I could sit and eat. In mine seating or eating might not have been possible, The last time I’d worn it, Laura had tugged on the strap laughing, “It’s like getting a  girl into  skinny jeans.”  I was not amused. I must exercise more and eat less.

Megan was gowned in a lovely traditional German red dress with white petticoat and white veil.  She had 4 inch high heals which were a challenge in the outdoor venue.  She did well. 

Poor Madigan on arrival was swatted as he attempted to exit the car by a ginger attack cat that roamed the parking lot.  He cried out and hid behind my leg while the cat made several lunges which I stopped by putting myself between the attack cat and Madigan . Poor Madigan had never encountered such a monster.  After the initial win he would be plotting revenge the rest of the day until the two of them seemed to call a truce.  

Laura watched Madigan while I went off for the family photos.  Lovely photographer.  Fun to be with the family all in Scottish regalia.   Megan’s bridesmaids we’re in white with spectacular red high heels.  I didn’t recognise one as Megan’s sister I’d met years before. Mulvine was there but we missed Velma. Alan’s friend Justin was there and he was with Nicole Megan’s bridesmaid. I loved seeing Tanya. She’d left Fin and Elliott with his sisters allowing her and Andrew a moment or rare peace.  They radiated love and happiness

Adell looked truly regal with her sparkling grey dress and long hair down. 

I confess I felt I was representing my brother and was doing my best not to be myself.  I resisted quips,  debate,  entendre and repartee. I resisting commenting on Quebec or the present incompetent corrupt national government and focussed on the positive of Alan and Megan wedding.   I was ‘nice’.  Everyone said I was ‘nice’. I suspect only Laura knows the effort that took. I did appreciate Laura saying I was behaving well.   Adell said she really appreciated my being there.  I’m suddenly the oldest in the immediate family. I don’t forgive my brother leaving me in this role. I’ve never acted my age except in work and court. I’ve always dependent on Ron to be the adult.   

Meanwhile my dog to our surprise was a perfect companion and didn’t once have diarrhea or chew on something important.  

Alan and Meagan’s friends from university were there.  I was amused at their youth and had to remind myself that I was the old man. I don’t feel it.  “We’re all nerds,” Alan said and they were indeed an intellectual group.  

There was a wedding mingle bingo in which everyone had to score by answering questions which they’d learn from mingling. I met Redmund , the English fellow through that and learned that Natasha, Alan’s best man,  had her own business making pancakes. I met her brother the suis chef from Vancouver too. Because of covid he’s gone back to school at BCIT to become an electrician.  

The ceremony had a traditional bit of wrapping banners around the bride and grooms joined arms, one from Megan’s family and the tartan one from our family.  Another darling feature was the sawing of the log, introduced by Michael, Megan’s father.  It was an old German village tradition in which the couple demonstrated they could work well together.  I loved it.  

There were speeches with humour and finally Adell and I had to come up. Adell had written some history of the Hay clan and our family which I read with an addition of personal anecdotes, meeting our aunt the Queen’s chambermaid at Holyrood Palace, and Grandad Hay the Reeve in northern Manitoba.  I also read the history of Adell’s Scottish family.  Then she presented the Hay tartan sash she’d made for Megan, a Scottish wedding tradition done by the mother of the groom.  

After this ceremony and standing in the beautiful sun by the Gatineau river with the glorious autumn colours of forest about, we were directed by Adell to head to the National Art Gallery Terrace Restaurant taking along Jodie, the mother of the bride.  Thank God for the iPhone map and the lady vocal direction. Adell had also warned us about the secret agent entrance to the parking lot so we arrived on time in the right place.

The Terrace restaurant required Vaccination passports and ID and eventually let us in. The best was that Madigan was welcome and truly continued to amaze us being a very good dog, lying down most of the meal in his Therapy Dog vest only once and a while popping up to put in nose at the end of the table to ascertain what he was missing. He did also bark at a dog that passed. We were on the canal and watched boats go by.   A truly spectacular and elegant restaurant with retracting heating panels and additions that appeared to allow for outdoor dining much of the year,

The choices were tenderloin or Arctic char.  Laura had the tenderloin and I had the Arctic char. The whole meal was superb,  Pleasant conversation about the wedding, the art gallery, vegetarianism, meditation, curling and aging.

When we left we had just enough juice in the iPhone to be guided back to Kanata and reach the Holiday Inn where we were staying.  

What a delightful day. Congratulations Alan and Megan!

  

Leaving Hay Bay

Alan and Meagan are now in Ottawa.  Adell has headed out.  I believe she’s meeting up with Andrew and Tanya, Finn and Elliott there. Laura is in the shower, her bags packed.  I’ve loaded the Hyundai Sonata Avis Rental, a nice car.  Thankful for the roomy trunk.  Graeme is manning the fort here with the two dogs, Eva and Pepper.

It’s been a whirlwind of activity since arrival.  

I enjoyed walking round the property despite jet lag.  Long walks with Madigan feeling the presence of my brother.  Adell was gracious and beautiful in all her care. She even made pear desert with the pears off the tree Ron planted. I was there. We had such hope and yes life carries on.

I slept. Wonderful dreams despite jet lag or covid or the soul exhaustion from work.  I read novels and slept.  We talked. Family talk.  Talk of weddings. Talk of new horns. Talk of jobs and homes.

I’m winding down.  Laura was a brick filling in.  We had to watch Madigan. He had diarrhea and it cleared with Adell’s rice and chicken but came back when we introduced wet foods.  He’s been a going concern. Not unhealthy.  But laying out puppy pads and getting him outside to poop.  

Emptying the boat of the personal things was a day. Graeme made it possible . He kept me on task as nostalgia threw me up on lee shores or I would take off soaring on tropical trades.  Everyone talked of the diesel smell.  For years I lived it but now I noticed it too.  Sweet and acrid.  

I was going to solo the Atlantic, down to the Caribbean , maybe take the inside passage as I discussed with my brother.  But the shift depth of the channels and my deep keel concerned me.  

“I’m getting old and my boats too big.  I’m think of selling and getting a smaller boat. ” I said.  

The young man from Loyalist Cove Marina said “That what I hear from 85% of the folk with yachts here.”  

It’s the white hair.  I’m of an age where people are always asking if I’m retired yet.  I’ve no real desire to retire. I like the work.  I enjoy the false sense of security that incoming money brings.  Work appeals to me. I’ve changed the nature of my work several times in my career.  I enjoy the patients and the people I work with today.  Virtual work has appealed to me with Covid.  Reminded me of my early radio phone days working in the sub arctic as a fly in doctors consulting to isolated reserves.  I left my Hamm radio and everything that could be used on the boat.  It was all set for off shore sailing with $20,000 in spare parts and new engine and new radio and chart plotter and new genoa.  

All the life threatening moments, the hurricanes, the night terrors came back to me.  I just couldn’t see myself pulling sails up and down like I needed to do in face of the weather.  I suppose I could. I’m not ready to sell yet. But my personal belongings are now off the boat, my journals, my underwear.  If I do sell it this year it’s viewable but it needs a new paint job and a little sanding to clear the rust. I used to bottom paint every year or two and it’s just been bottom painted a couple years back. I painted the deck about 5 years ago. I’ve had the boat sand blasted and painted three times in her life.  I imagined how I’d enjoy working in a boat yard painting again. Those were good days, good memories.

I’ve packed the car with my bags.  We’ve gone through the house looking to see nothing was left.  I heard Laura leave the shower so it won’t be long.  Madigan is excited. 

The sun is shining,  We’ve had the best meals,  I loved the dinner on the deck under the stars listening to the lapping of the lake at Hay Bay.  Graeme had barbecued beef medallions and Adell had made several salads.  It was wholesome and family.  Relaxed.

I am afraid of people these last years.  So easily offended and the authorities corrupt and in everyone’s affairs.  Backing the play of the victim culture.  Who ever cries first wins.  False allegations are the norm and the mainstream are so far behind the cultural wars as to only know when they or their family fall before the legal political machines.  Fringe politics.  

It was easy here,  The only agitators and yapping dogs were the dogs.  Eva is the most vocal, Likes to lie on the couch in the sun and bark at a squirrel.  Pepper then starts running around and barking not knowing yet what’s got Eva going. Madigan took a day or two before he joined in. I don’t think he every figured out what they were barking at but he was glad to join in with Pepper running around in circles complaining and warning and agitating.  I’m so glad that Madigan got to play with his cousins.  I call them aunts or cousins. Seeing them run together on the great lawn was one of my dreams.  I looked forward to watching the dogs cajole in the great expanse of green.  Madigan even took to chasing the ball even as far as I could throw it.  Reminiscent of good times with my brother and the dogs.  Mom and dad now long gone used to love our playing with the dogs.  Sonny, the springer spaniel was part of the family growing up. Then Ron and Adell had Tartan and Rainy before they moved on to kids.  

I feel so alone at times. Then I pray and it’s okay.  There were decades when my life was thick with friends and family.  All young.  This last two years three of my closest friends have passed pretty much taking with them their extended friends and family.  I’m of the age,  

Laura is coming down the stairs pulling her suitcase, Time to take it out to the car and make the last check before leaving Hay Bay for Kanata,  Kanata is another sources of memory and nostalgia.  This week we made new dreams.  Adell’s cooking, the kids and the dogs, and Laura all such a good time.  The boat. I would have liked to have visitted Nick but it was too busy with family.  Wedding preparations and boat work.  

Thank You Jesus.