Logan Lake, at day 2, Sunday

Madigan woke me early with his impatience to start the day.

“The sun’s up,’ he said, in dog Latin.

The estimate of human ancestry is now some 30,000 to 300,000 years.  Civilization began 3 to 5000 years ago.  Genteticists find at least 6 humanoid species. A little hobbit like creature is one of the latest while Neanderthal and Human co existed, our DNA even having Neanderthal DNA incorporated in it, presumably from inter species breeding. Anthropologist continue to push the time table back with carbon testing and increasing finds from burial digs and such.  Dog was man’s first domesticated companion.

Until a hundred years ago, two at most, light has been expensive, carrying wood for fires, candles, lanterns.  Hydro electric power and relatively cheap light is a post industrial age phenomena,  No surprise it’s healthy to get up early with the sun and go to bed early with the dark.

I’m on holiday.  I’d like to sleep in.  I have a thought that to get up means to shave and dress with more care than I might otherwise.  A part of me wants to blend in, to regress, to homengenize, to be normal.  I have long hair and painted nails.  I don’t think like the television sports addict who drinks beer, has some office job like a lawyer with a suburban house wife who twerks and sells real estate or beauty products.  I’ve worn red dresses to church to compete with the bishops and commo hunting skirts to buy rifles at the gun store. For decades I’ve been different.  In the last years my hair has grown longer .  I’ve coloured it to remove the grey.  I’ve talked about my fears and vulnerability, to being raped, bullied, taken hostage and survived a myriad of life changing events.  I’ve not been discrete.  I’d not be called a ‘closet queen’ though neither am I fully ‘out’.  To say I’m GAY no longer means one is exclusive to men.  The rainbow community is inclusive.  The conventional ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ community identifies as heterosexual despite so many who simply don’t pretzel into that category so easily today.  

I only packed au femme wear for this trip. I might have a pair of shorts and t shirts but otherwise its sun dresses, panties and bras.  I’ve several bikini and one pieces.  My desire to cross dress increases with the anxiety I feel in my work.  I’ve gone on holidays to Europe, the US, and many times camping with a suitcase of women’s clothing and as the anxiety abates I’ve less need to have the social camouflage.  I saw a psychiatrist about my cross dressing and gender dysphoria.  

“It’s not traditional transsexualism. You’ve been extremely happy and accomplished as a man but this seems to be dissociative to some extent and also to address some aspects of your PTSD.”  

I was exorcised and countless people have prayed over me. I’ve attended 12 step programs and prayer meetings and had years of therapy in which this has been the topic at times. My wives and girlfriends have all known and at times we’ve tried strap ons and role play.  It’s not a secret among friends and intimates.  It’s come and gone too.  I’ve been with so many women for decades and only a very few men, only a couple I knew as friends and only one I knew sexually a few times.   I love the sensuality of satin and silk.  I’ve been celibate,  strictly celibate for years at a time doing monastic training of east and west.  

But recently I’ve wondered about stoicism.  Religions have a dualism of spirituality and materialism.  I’ve found myself weighing in with the creationists who embrace this Garden of Creation and look at life without the obvious selective biases.  In the religions women are gluttons but good and men drink and are bad.  Spiritual pride is everywhere along with avarice but envy is deeply frowned on.  Watching the rise of Marxist aetheism as a death war cult has affected my trust in those around me.  I often feel like I’m living in the 30’s with the rise of Naziism and Communism and now radical Islam.  All the while I’ve done my time, served my community and country, worked in the areas of greatest need at greatest risk and want to relax only to fear this government and the unethical corruptness that dominates the criminality of once trustworthy institutions and courts,  

As a man I provided and protected to the utmost, serving. Perhaps if I’d had children, those little police people, society controls I’d have been more normal. I’d have had the joy of family and the answer to denial of death. I’d live on through my children rather than seeing myself as a one off of creation.  The fact remains I’m alone, born alone and dying alone and old. I’ve begun to consider bucket lists and death differently from the immortality of youth.  

Woken this morning by the dog, I carried on using the bathrooom, shaving and brushing my teeth, applying red lipstick, dressing in the cutest little blue striped sun dress I bought recently in Arizona.  I get a lot of pleasure buying women’s clothing and take little joy in the ‘au drab’ world of men’s clothing. Suits are just variations on the British military jacket of Victorian days. They are meant for heavy lifting and work. Women’s clothes by contrast are if anything designed for play and sensuality.  

My little dog was so very happy that we were out before 6 am.  We walked almost into town.  It was a bit nippy, sweater weather but I could manage walking. The cool breeze lifted my sun dress and caressed my legs. I’d probably be as happy as a nudist. I loved sailing in the tropics often naked or only wearing khaki shorts, or a sarong, clothing optional, the barest covering at most for modesty but never as a reflection of gender.  When I sailed with women they wore only bathing suit bottoms if that and I loved to see breasts bare in the sea air.  I loved the Minoan culture and fashion when I studied the classics.  I sometimes think of getting breast implants as an act of narcissism, to be able to look at myself since women are either witholding the earthy beauty of the goddess or attaching it to the dark sexuality of Marxist feminism.  

Life is a dichotomy of eat or be eaten.  Survival of the fittest is the law of the jungle while cooperation is the law of civilization.  

I walked the dog which made him happy,. He had a poop and peed everywhere.  On my return a man was out fishing.  He had a long white beard.  Another old man waved as I walked by.  I waved back.  In the camper I made coffee which tasted great. I’ve written.  I’ll wait till it warms up to go for a swim in my black two piece. Yesterday I wore the black one piece being conservative. I have a blue and white polka dot bottom with red bikini top feeling that would be over the top here.  Even unconventional I try to be conventional .  I am wearing Teva sandals.  The little guy has gone back to bed for another morning nap.  I could too, It seems early for breakfast.  I think I’ll change to a skirt or shorts and t shirt. I really like this sun dress and don’t want to get it dirty. I never know how anyone can wear white I’ve already dripped food on one blouse.  If we all went topless it would be no bother to wipe that up, Now I have laundry.  

Thank you Jesus for this day, for all your blessings.  

Since Covid   

Logan Lake

I left Spence’s Bridge this morning at 8 am after making my own stovetop expresso.  It was a lovely morning, clear sky.  It was minutes loading up and I was on the road.  Great morning drive.

I saw goats and mule deer. I loved the baby goats. Madigan was impressed.  Lots of road work on highway 8.  I loved the tumbleweed.  Sage in the air.  In no time I was in Merritt, filling up with gas and taking 97 c north.  Paved highway.  

Logan Lake.  I remember staying here at a motel one year with Laura. It was hunting season. The lake was the attraction. The Municipal RV park is on one end with the town at the other end.  

The young men were helpful getting me a spot.  A direct walk to the lake for swimming. There’s electricity and wi fi at the site. Running water and Sani flush are at the park but not at the site. The site electricity makes it easy for me to do work while the wifi is going to work because so far I’ve not got the Starlink working.  Too many obstructions 

I loved the swim. Alright. I have a one piece and enjoyed walked with my towel to the dock and climbing down the ladder.  The cold water wasn’t too cold and good for my back.  I lost a hearing aid.  Forgot I had them on.  One did fine but the one I’d lost a couple of times and damaged is no more.  

A fellow told me that my brake was squealing.

So after that I walked Madigan into town and learned there is a fellow who does vehicle repairs. Wolverine.  I’ll go by Monday morning. It may be the HD on the front ramp.  A contributing factor. I feel I have to get it fixed before I head home

I took another dip in the lake. It really is hot.  Thankfully I have air condition.  After a short time suntanning I was back in the camper with the air conditioning on. I’m reading a historical novel from Berlin WW2. Great suspense.  Jewish boy evading nazi working in the neurological institute studying the genetics of fruit fly. 

Travels with Amber: Spences Bridge

Morning. The sun has risen. It’s already warm on my face.  It’s above the mountain beyond the rushing Thompson.  The trains made some noise in the night but only once did I wake. I had sweet dreams and felt comfortable here in this camper, with my little dog sleeping through the night on the seats in the dining area. He’d be in bed with me as at home but I fear the jump down from the camper bed would not be good for his back.

I’ve cleaned my face enjoying the smell of dove soap. I’ve brushed my teeth with Colgate.  I thought of showering but really want a swim.  I like having a surplus of water too.  Later today.  

I wore the black nightie to bed with the sparkling word “sexy’ across the chest. I’ve had that for decades now. I’d wear it camping when I hunted alone in the mountains near Pemberton tenting.  The animus hunted. The anima lead back at camp.  Psychological mindedness, tolerating the tension of opposites.  I sometimes think that my masculinity has been ‘reaction formation’ and my femininity ‘identification with the aggressor’.  Yet I embrace both. I so enjoyed the strong young man and his pleasure but now older with less outlet for heavy lifting I’m rather enjoying more the feminine.   

I am a cross dresser.  My transexual psychiatrist friend joked when I lunched with her last month, “What’s the difference between a cross dresser and a transexual?  5 years. “ she said.  I’ve been cross dressing since I was an actor in my teens.  I played a school lead as a woman. It wasn’t an issue back then and I enjoyed those times.  I felt freeer, more creative and alive as only the young can be. Decades of being a doctor and a psychiatrist and an addiction medicine specialist I’ve grown weary of the social homogeneity, doctors dressing like lawyers and bankers.  I like my colleagues who wear shorts and hiking wear.  They are far beyond the white lab coat even.  Symbols of normalcy don’t seem as important.  

I’m technically bisexual by history. On my sad days I fear that when I was anally penetrated an bred the seeds of homosexuality were planted.  I was changed by trauma.  How melodramatic.  My cherry was bust and yet I’ve wallow in the self pity so many girls adopt to be one down and adopted. Of course it could be gentle.  A little lube would have gone a long way. But there are men in the gay community with a mean streak.  Feral.  In the war they were leaders in the SS.  Toxic masculinity describes them. I supposed the like raping boys and girls and the rape fantasies continue in society.  Shares of Grey and Sado masochism.  The most popular female fantasy is being ‘taken’ by a rich and powerful man.  

“Would you have sex with me for a million dollars?” He said.  

“I’d think about it”.  She replied.

“Would you have sex with me for a dollar?”

“What do you take me for?” She said.

“That’s already been decided. I”m just dickering for price”

I got the experience of being anally penetrated.  I said no so it’s technically raped. I was given my first blow job drunk and stoned.  I had sex with a man imagining a woman , so deluded by drugs and alcohol I couldn’t be accountable.  The social programming was broken.  I recoiled and returned to the tame world. I’d taken a walk on the wild side and didn’t return a billionaire but had a sore bum and a hell of a lot of shame.

Velvet Rage is the book I recommended to gay men.  We joked about men being ‘pussie’s’ and it wasn’t attractive.  Being gay was to be ostracized not like the tomboy or was she too a bit reviled.  It was definitely easier for her to return to her feminine role.  When a woman has a child all is forgiven.  So much of society is based on the need for children to man the armies of the world.  The demand only changed with industrialization. The birth control pill was created in 1952, the year of my birth.

The elite always have time and money for any indulgence.  The lower classes we’re too tired to be creative. The middle classes were upwardly mobile but cautious to retain there hard won status.  Homogeneity was the goal.  To fit in. Discretion was the rule.  Dr. Carl Jung differentiated the ‘self’ from the ‘persona’ or social self.  

I’ve done quite well till now.  I’ve served society and now with limited time left want to be free from  constraints.  There is little time for soon they’re just say ‘he’s demented. He’s psychotic’.  Difference is either mad or bad.  Wearing women’s clothes is my Klinger expression.  I don’t want to war no more.

Life is a journey, a grand one at this, This bit is a blip in the whole, a delightful embracing of the whole self.  Dr. Jung called these ‘bits’ the ‘Shadow’. Obviously there are darker aspects of life which were contained by ‘evolution’ but there’s also those other bits which are not so bad or wrong or demonic.  Society is evolving and we thankfully don’t need more children for war so heterosexuality and the trappings of the military are no longer the only game in town.  I like the expressions of the artist.  Besides I’m a sniper and called up as an old man I’d serve my community though really I’m a healer first and foremost. Killing is relatively easy by comparison.  The sheep dog is more advanced thatn the wolf in that regard .  I do imagine myself more a sheep dog, maybe even a bitch. 

Rainy Day Monday

Back in the city.  I woke with Laura so I could make us coffee before she headed home.  Madigan was excited by all the activity.  It was raining when we left. I carried the big umbrella.  She loaded her red smart car. Then was off.  Madigan and I walked back from the parking lot.  We’re a bit forlorn when she’s gone.  

I had thought I was going into the clinic this morning but am instead working from home. No doubt I was confusing booking the schedule. I’ll be at Docside tomorrow in person This Friday I begin my 10 day 2 week work cation. I ‘m going to seek out a lake for daily bikini swimming in the morning while working virtual with Starlink in the later morning and afternoon.  When I sailed I wore shorts or a sarong.  Now I love being in a lose yoga skirt.  I associate the feminine with anything but hanking on wrenches and heavy lifting. I like the artistic self, enjoy reading and riding, find myself thinking of sketching again. I used to do that and find real solace with pencil and sketch pad.  Reading Venice Sketch Pad about artists in Intaly really inspired me.  I loved the sketches my accountant returned with from his Venice trip. It’s definitely a place I’d like to go before it disappears beneath the water. I’d like to return to Ireland too and Berlin if only to see the wall.  South America and an African safari sometimes call but mostly these days I want to walk through galleries and enjoy the art and space.

Writing is a joy for me. The thought to fingers to page typing.  Free association. I have this idea I must soon create plot and story or consider the reader.  Now I’m just journaling and ‘squeezing the pus from my brain’.  All the thoughts of self and anima and animus, the shadow and self.  Exposing these in writing. I imagine creating a different blog for discretion.  My exercise in transparency has gone on for a while. I wonder about re creating a private and public life in writing. The authors who are different race or gender and the intellectuals whose idealized writing has no relationship to their lives.

I exercise my writing like a musician playing scales.  Journaling is like that.  If I were to be serious I’d edit pieces and consider audience and work for money.  I’ve books in the works but little drive to complete them.  I’m rather enjoying the life I’m living now doing things for the personal.  Loving self.  Self indulgent after a life of service.  

I often think of retirement but enjoy paying the mortgage and no thinking seriously of money.  I can pay to have someone else do repairs and feel my income will support the exercise. I like that I can buy Laura jewelry at Trev Deely without worrying about rationing.  Retired without an income I’d be living on public pension and savings.  Not so middle class.  Right now I’m still working but not so many hours as I once did.  More a 40 hour week compared to the old 80 hour week. I don’t like the 70% real taxation we pay in Canada , the high cost of rent and high cost of living.  I imagined moving to the country because I could continue to work but overhead would be halved .  Then I persévérantes. I’ve a boat to sell and a storage locker to exorcise but instead I’d rather read, watching tv and put my head in the sand.  I’m in God’s waiting room thankful to be able to work when so many others are dying and becoming ill.  I don’t have days of activity so enjoy work as it gives meaning and value and organization to my day.  Sometimes I just want to have a 3 month vacation to rest. Then I’d become bored and reboot with some new project, travel, writing. 

That’s what I want to do write and travel and take pictures.  I’ve got the means to camp and fish and hunt as well now but expect hunting and fishing might take a back seat to lie reading on a lawn chair.  My mom gardened at my age and my dad did about the same , outfitting a van and taking a canoe to drive about the country camping on his own for a week or so at a time leaving mom back at home. Then the two of them would drive about in their Slumber Queen visiting Good Sam RV parks in the US socializing with other folk who had retired.  They shared in common raising kids and Dad had his connection with the military and mom with other Christians and church.

I’m rather alone with a dog .  I imagine Travels with Charley and Steinbeck my fascination when younger. I love Somerset Maugham travel tales and yet here I blog and don’t indeed consider the audience. What would they like to hear. I’ve a wealth of knowledge of my fellow man and woman, expertise galore but haven’t found a vehicle for that. I once was happy as a poet.  Today I prefer prose though poetry certainly had it’s appeal like the rudimentary sketching I so enjoyed.  I did a picture of Shinto I once put on the wall and enjoyed as a mother might her child’s art on the refridgerator door. 

Death is in the future. Something I never considered but do now. I don’t think about it but it’s there.  I more consider the back ache and declining physical stamina, flexibility and power.  I am going deer hunting in the fall but while I look forward to venison I’m not looking forward to getting the deer out of the woods after I shoot it. I’ve also grown more sentimental.  Vegetarianism beckons but it’s mostly mental decline.  Emotionalism rather than real spirituality.  God and I are one. I am eating God and God is eating me all the time.  I would do well to fast more and lose some of the weight I’ve acquired with recent sloth and the dullness of thinking know to the fat. 

Thank you Jesus for your Book. Thank you Constantine. Thank you Peter. Thank you God. Thank you all my teachers and mentors. Thank you for libraries and learning. Thank you for the day. Thank you for fashion, Thank you for the fine things in life. My friend Peter is baking and his excitement over making hamburgers inspired me to do the same. Perhaps I’ll take up bread making again It’s been many year.  If I was retired I’d do more of these things .  I’d love a garden but a hydroponic arrangement for tomatoes might be fine. My father and brother grew tomatoes.  It was a point of pride in the family.  Mom and dad did so much gardening older, renting land for the purpose, along side rail way tracks.  Survivalism runs deep in the Hay family.  Self sustaining. I enjoy reading of Graeme and Adell and their maintains the land that Ron and Adell bought.  Such an ongoing project. Personally I’d rather a high rise apartment though best like my truck camper these days, shifting view and self contained,  

Thank you God for this day, the rain, which is welcomed by the foliage Thank you for Madigan. Thank you for this body and this space. Thank you Jesus.  

Telte Yet Campground

Well, we needed to pick up the Adventurer Camper in Chilliwack.  Laura was up for the adventure.  Madigan was all paws.  A stop at Windsor Plywood served to get some 3/4 inch marine fir to lay in the box.  The ride wasn’t onerous at all. I’d been to Dr. Ready in the morning so we only got away at noon and were loaded up at Chilliwack by 2 pm. We filled up with gas and water at the Esso.  

It was a glorious day with blue sky sunshine and small gaggles of cloud gossiping in the sky.  The mountains were magnificent . The greens so enchanting.  The traffic was surprisingly light. 

A short drive onto Hope and a stop at the grocery.

I wheeled the buggy out with the haul.  Laura stand in the camper as I lifted out the goods

« I don’t know how to shop for a weekend, ». I said.

« I know’, she replied, piling bread and eggs, steak and bacon onto the table. ». « You always get so much. »

« I know, the survivalist kicks in.  It’s related to those periods of poverty in my life , leaving home and after the divorce.  Being hungry left an indelible mark on my psyche even though it was only a few weeks. It must be worse for the refugees and folk who’ve known rationing after a war.  » I said .

« When the children were small and it was hard making ends meet I felt really comforted having food in the cupboards. » she said. 

Here we now were just talking about cholesterol, the American epidemic of obesity, the need we had to lose weight.  

The young native woman at the campground was truly a beauty.  A regular black haired Veronica.  She had a pretty little shy daughter who leaned up against her mommy’s leg.

« Do you have a place for the night. » I asked 

« How many? »

« 2 adults and a little dog. »

« With electricity? »

« Yes , we d love that, ». I didn’t say but Kelvin had just installed air conditioning and I was so excited by this new luxury  The day was really hot  though the winds off the river was cool..  

« I love the wind here. It’s so refreshing , » Laura said, when we chose #5 overlooking the large river meeting.  

« What a glorious place! » I said looking at the river through the trees.  It wasn’t long at all before we had back in hooked up and felt like we were at a home away from home.  

Madigan was glad for a walk.  Every form of camper was here.  Gréât Class A buses hooked to full service, fifth wheels and toy haulers.  Then there were traditional tents and several of the new tents on top of cars.  Converted vans and even a few motorcycle campers.  A Big Foot Camper was next to ours.  While Madigan marks territory every where I enjoy looking at the other camps and campers from everywhere, Asian, European, local.  I still like my truck camper best though younger I know I’d have like the tent that sits on top of the car.  I started camping as a child with family and have camped ever since in tents, and vans and now so enjoy this little home camper van because it can go anywhere with amenities off grid for days or weeks.  

After the walk back in the camper I  made coffee using the handheld Vevok grinder and stove top expresso.   The refriderator was slow to fire up because there was air in the propane lines. Once the stove got going the refridgerator did too.   Laura and I then settled into reading.  Wi Fi wasn’t that good but I plan  next week to have my Star Link with me when I take a week vacation on my own.  

This night it was hard to believe we were here It was a total breakfrom the city.  Another world. 

I pulled the barbecue out and barbecued the corn in the husk. I then did the steak having to watch as the wind blew out the flame at first.  The smells were delicious.  I had potato salad from the Hope grocery as well.  It was a feast. The steaks were succulent and of course Madigan was glad to share with Laura and me.  Laura loved the corn with butter an salt and surprisingly I did too because it didn’t get caught up in my teeth.  The potato salad was perfect and the local bread, Lac La Heche Pioneer bread with spread easy butter was a delicious addition.  We had a butter tarts to finish and Madigan was glad to help.

Another walk with the dog then more reading after a splurge of air conditioning.  I finished Venice Sketchbook by Rhys Bowen.  A wonderful intriguing historical  mystery.  When it came time to sleep I could only cuddle a bit  with Laura before being unable to sleep and reading more of Venice in the quiet night.  So much for late afternoon coffee.  Sitting up with only the screen door and the sound the river was lovely at night. I eventually became sleepy and this time climbed up in to bed and slept till 8 am.  

Laura’s up and we’ve had coffee but I’m going to make bacon and eggs walk the dog and she’s going to shower.  It’s not a mystery or a suspense but rather a magnificent treat after  a week of work in the city.  Thank you Jesus for this adventure and camping.  Thank you Telte Yet natives for letting us share your sacred place . 

 

Trev Deeley and HD Nightster Special

I’m here at Trev Deeley enjoying the air conditioning and ambience. Always nice to see the staff.  

Last weekend when I stopped my new HD Nightster Special at home after idling in the heat and traffic all day, the radiator seemed to overflow with a cup of fluid suddenly boiling out under the bike.  I’ve never had a HD with a radiator.  It’s not a big deal on a truck but I phoned the incredible Trev Deeley service department.  

« Let’s be safe.  Bring it down on Friday.’

Now I’m waiting here hoping its nothing.  I loved riding the half hour here.  It’s such a joy to be on a Harley.  I traded in my big Electroglide for this smaller Nightster and am so thankful.  I’d hardly ridden the Electroglide last year finding to more like driving a truck in the city. It’s the ultimate highway machine.  I had a Vespa and was driving that any chance I had in the city.  Great little run about.  I saw a fellow with a 300 yesterday . He was going a cross Canada camping.  Not a freeway machine though it can do the work.  My Nightster though goes everywhere and is light in the city.  The Electroglide was 1200 lbs and the Nightster is 500.

I wanted to take the motorcycle on a hitch rack on my F350 . My hitch rack was rated to 500 lbs so I ‘ve ordered one from Amazon rated to 600 lbs with wider track to accommodate the bigger wheels.  The last one carried a KTM, a Honda enduro and last the Vespa.  Now I’ve given it to Dave for his bike.  Glad to pass it on.

Laura is with Madigan back home so I stopped by the HD jewelry. I bought her earrings a few months back and today was able to get her a bracelet and onyx ring. She likes HD fashion and when I’m here waiting for service I’m glad to have the time to get her something.  

I bought my first Buell Blast 600 here nearly 20 years ago.  I bought the Electroglide here too.  What I like about Trev is the honesty and service. The sales folk have been consistently knowledgeable and truthful.  I’ve had good deals on trade ins. But service parts and knowledge is what’s most impressed me.  

The fashion is just fine too. I’ve bought the best HD leather jackets and touring gear, gloves, helmets and boots.  

Living the life!. Loving my Nightster Special and hoping they’re clear the motorcycle for me to drive it home.  I bought a skookum dog carrier box here and Madigan loves to go with me for rides. He jumps up on the seat and is climbing into his box while I’m fastening it down.  I may miss the Electroglide on a long highway cruise but I’m just loving this Nighter for versatility and use.  It suits Madigan and I right now.

Older I’d rather ride long distance in my F350 with the Advernturer Camper on the back and use my motorcycle for day tours wherever we choose to camp. That’s the plan.  It’s the dream. Living the dream.  I’ve been blessed with boats and vehicles and thankful to be able to still ride.  Thank you Jesus!!!

Morning Gratitude

I am so thankful to be alive today. It’s a blessing.  I am here in Burnaby that township between the thriving city of Vancouver and the old port of New Westminister. It’s summer and the weather has been truly magnificent.  31 degrees yesterday .  Today a slight breeze and prospect of another delightful day in heaven.  No mosquitoes by the coast.  

I’m working so am able to pay the bills , the rent, the high cost of food, maintenance on buildings and vehicles. I enjoy paying taxes and knowing that if I wanted to buy something for a hundred dollars I wouldn’t have to worry this week. I’m saving and money is going to pay the mortgage.  It’s all round a good feeling with hope that it will continue.

My frustration has been communication.  My Starlink Satellite dish has been intermittent with dropped calls.  I’ve replaced the router and talked with Starlink assistance who have been most helpful.  They’ve even sent me a new cable considering that may be the problem. Rather than work on it more myself I’ve asked Kelvin from Travco who does all many of maintenance work to do a skookum job on the arrangement.  I’ve run the cable through a window and the excess is lying outside on the ground. I’d like a hole through the wall so the cable actually runs inside where I can run it across the ceiling to the router.

This is what I think about . Thank and new motorcycle hitch rack I plan for the front of the F350.  I gave the old one to Dave since the tire width was insufficient for the Harley.  7 inch tires.  The old one I used for the other motorcycles had a maximum rating of 5 inches.. That’s was also rated for a 500 lb motorcycle. The new rack is rated for 600 and the Harley Nightster special is 500.

Madigan had his hair cut yesterday by Dr. Biernacki and staff.  A godsend after his bad experience with the groomers. Poor baby.  Yesterday I took him to North Road Veterinarian and left him for the day.  He went in a big dog with a hug coat for fur and came out a little squirming with short hair cut.  I immediately took him to MacDonald’s for a burger.

We’ve a week of camping and virtual work planned in a week.  He’ll have a dog’s time. Not that he doesn’t have a dog’s life.  

I shared barbecued chicken with him last night. His friends Bella and Luka are back so he visitted with them too.  Bella and Luka are being groomed this week.

Laura’s been off with Covid.  There seems to be quite a few with this summer flu.  Nothing dangerous but unpleasant. I’m mostly over my sniffles but intermittently have dry cough still.  

I pray. I meeting with the God of my understanding , a loving creator, and am hopeful for the best. Last night I was with George at a meeting and Neil shared with me the acronym G.O.D.  Gréât Out Doors.  He’s been camping and loving it.  I’m uplifted by the sunshine and fine weather.  I’m outfitting too towards the Snowbird winter months in Arizona. It’s a goal and purpose.  An expedition that so many do. I love thinking how my father and mother took this touring in retirmement in stride. I just want more sunshine 

I’m seeing the chiropractor on the weekend and loving how my back and joint pains seem to be improving in the sun and with my increased activity.  

Thank you Jesus.  

Wakening to friends squeals

Bella is back! Madigan’s little black and white Havanese girlfriend squealed outside on the street.  Madigan leaped from the bed where I was sleeping.  A frenzy of barking and squealing,  I decided I’d get up and grabbed shorts and a sweater.  Opening the door Madigan bolted out to join Bella and Luka.  It was good to see Peter talking with the beautiful Nicoletta.  

Bella greeted me and Madigan jumped all over like a baby kangaroo.,

‘Where have you been? We missed you. ‘ I asked Peter

« We were getting the motor home fixed but it just took longer than planned’.  They’d been away several weeks.  

« Everyone is well. » Peter continued.

« So glad you’re back but I have to pee, ».  Almost bursting I called Madigan who was so happy.  His little gang had returned and I was able to get to the bathroom. Morning rituals of prayer and exercise continued.  I’d lifted Madigan’s dish from the floor so he had no nibbles. He’s been groomed by Dr. Biernacki the fabulous vet and his caring assistant. Madigan had a bad grooming experience and is now afraid of groomers.  He’s had vet assisted grooming once and it went well so I’m hoping he’ll overcome his anxiety with positive experiences and aging,

It’s another lovely morning.  I’m hoping I’m losing weight. I’ve been exercising more and eating less. It’s a winning formula.  I love the weather sunny in the day with a breeze. I like being close enough to the sea that we still have sea gulls.  There’s herons here from the river and sparrows and black birds. Lots of rabbits out and about early morning. I saw lots by the airport and again when I was in Tucson. I wonder if it’s a rabbit high cycle in a large swath of territory.  A friend sighted a coyote . They’re next.

I’m juggling vehicles.  Friday I take my new Harley Nightster Special to Trev Deeley to have the radiator checked. I believe the it may have overflowed last weekend because a cup of fluid spilled out when I stopped.  Better safe than sorry as I’ve never had a liquid cooled Harley.  I called and service said bring it in.

The new Starlink parts have come for the camper and the decals are ready to be put on.  Kevin at Adventurer RV just needs a day but he’s out in Chilliwack.  Kelvin will fix the taillights and the satelite cables but he’s in town. So I’ll need to bring the camper back with me this weekend after I have the chiropracter visit with Dr. Ready. My back is always with some pain but I’m mobile if a bit fragile and thankful that it’s improved and I’m more active. It may be that my being more active has improved the back too.  

I still feel like I’m in God’s waiting room. I have not big projects or purpose just a desire to Snowbird this winter with the camper and the harley .  I really ought to be learning how to tow this huge Fifth Wheel. There’s a special license needed. I meant to take lessons in the spring but it may wait till next year.  I am very much aware at my age I’m in the space where friends die or become sick and I could too.  It seems to focus my attention. 

I still have book to write though haven’t felt must inspiration to create novels or autobiographies.  I’m working and paying taxes and paying the rent. It’s a good life. I don’t imagine I’d like retirement at this time if only because I would have to be more conscientious about spending.  I doubt I could have upgraded my motorcycles or bought the new paddle board.  I like that I’m paying off the mortgage and savings are still accumulating slowly. I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m spending principal.  I’ve never been rich in a rich sense. I put all my money into outfitting my sail boat for expeditions.  Other’s get grants and raise independent funds.  I supported ex wife’s through their medical training working two and three jobs at the time.  I’ve paid a lot to others and to charity so it’s not like I’m ever decadent. I’ve been desperately poor leaving high school then completing medical school then paying the debts of two divorces. The women I’ve been involved with have never been frugal like my mother. Party girls despite their many merits, I have indeed envied them having a sugar daddy like me despite their having goods jobs that they used to pamper themselves while I paid for the rest.  

Now again I’m comfortable.  I really am blessed and very thankful to God that I’m able to give money to family and friends and order shorts and sun dress off Amazon without worrying about the cost.  I have th $200 inversion table that I’ve only used once as it’s stored under a tarp beside my place.  It’s awkward to set up.  

I eat well despite the high cost of food today.  Madigan likes chicken so I’ve been barbecuing chicken.  We share it watching TV. I’ve begun watching the original NCIS with the new cast. It’s okay despite the Woke propaganda.  

Life is good ,   I love the sunshine and summer and look forward to a week working by the lake.  I’m hoping to swim some.  It’s quiet here early.  

Thank you God for all your blessings. Thank you for serenity. Thank you for the comfort now this lull after so many political storms with beaurocratic corruption and abuse,  ‘Trust the science’ is such a ludicrous unscientific statement. The myth of climate change emergency and the myth of overpopulation dominated the wanton government corruption and obscene spending on their cronies.  If I were getting more of the loot I’d not mind I guess.  I’m doing the next right thing and have noting more than wearing women’s clothes to be ashamed of. I’m conflicted enough by sexuality to be a their and bully.  I continue to see that the criminals in low places and high places are rewarded and folks like me are at best left alone to work as long as I don’t get too much that would attract the predators.  I’m in this modest place, no government indexed pensions, no great house asset,  just decades of works and service in a world that dénoncés men and service and celebrates the offended and the aggressive.  I’ve served in the areas of greatest need and continue to serve and am paid moderately for my service. There are no deals or windfalls just wage labor.  I’m thankful for this time.  The future is uncertain but the present is fine. The folks are the clinics are especially impressive humans and I really like the majority of my patients who I help and I enjoy helping. My men’s meeting is tonight and I look for ward to seeing George and the other friends even though they’d not share my pleasure with buying some rather soft and expensive panties on line.  I love the fine materials as much as anything .The t shirts from the conferences were really soft and not the usual mannish rough cotton that tshirts are made of.  I really like comfort and admire women for focusing on that now that I’m aging and that fought and tough young man stuff has no appeal. I simply don’t want to be hanking on wrenches or twisted under engines. Even the thought of sanding and painting my sailboat has no appeal. I’ve done it some thirty times, yearly bottom coats and top coats and sand blasting every five years about. 

Yesterday I washed my car.  That gave me joy.  Thank you Jesus.  

 

  

Old ladies and old men smell

When I was a child I remember thinking that old people smelled funny. I am old today and don’t think I smell funny. But then as my sight and hearing have diminished so has my olfactory sense. Perhaps smells exist that only an acute child’s nose might ferret out.  

The truth is looking back I believe the world was different in many ways and the smells of my childhood would be thankfully rarer today.

Cheap perfume and cheap cologne. Many old people pre febreeze thought that dousing themselves with perfume and cologne would ‘cover up’ the smells. 

Old people body odors aren’t easily covered up.

The key is washing and when I was young showers were uncommon and baths were work. Today I and all my friends shower daily. We all use soap.  Water is not rationed here, Yet when I was younger it was often not so readily available as today and old people often bathed only once a week.  It was not uncommon to for people to avoid full immersion and simply clean themselves with a hand towel,  Not as effective but better than not.  Soaking was a luxury of time and heating. In the north where I was houses were cold and drafty and the electricity to heat water wasn’t free. There were homes too that didn’t have hot water so to bath one had to boil water for the tub. This was common in the northern reserves and some of the farms.  Wood smoke often covered body door effectively so it wasn’t as apparent in the country as the city.  

Later in life I became aware that though many old people were bathing regularly it was their clothing that smelled.  I remember old cigar smoke and cigarette smoke in men’s jackets and that few ‘dry cleaned’ clothing then.  

There was also a lot more sweating and physical labor when I was growing up. Not an effete gym crowd but rather real working men and women who even if they were professional had to lift and haul and push things, ie sweat.  

I also imagine that the stoical old were asexual by their sixties and coupling wasn’t the sensual slow endeavour of today.  Men and women in their 80’s are intimate today and living longer with more sexuality and sensuality so actually considerate of others.  In the past the old were often just surviving and dying with a variety of smelly diseases that didn’t get checked by doctors early.

I don’t think I smell off but if I demented it would likely be a tell tale indication. The physical disabilities of the elderly make wiping and washing difficult, painful and even dangerous.  Slipping in the bathroom is common.  Efforts are being made to make bathrooms friendly and safe for the elderly.  

I remember my fastidious grandmother needing help to strip the bed and put on new sheets.  Alone she’d not have been able.  The family provided assistance in the past but the ‘smelly’ old ones were commonly the widowed and alone.  

I think multi culturalism will affect this scenario because different cultures have different attitudes to body odour, elderly, washing, soap and community. The Chinese were once the fastidious and the English were by comparison disgusting. Now the English are obessessive and the Chinese continue to believe in the merits of cleanliness.  But what of the middle eastern and southern raised in desert climes where water was a costly commodity. There are complaints of different ‘food’ smells in apartments ‘offending’ neighbours but what of body odors and clothing smells.  

I dont notice it. I’m an old person.  I wonder what children would say.  I doubt today the kids would think the old smell collectively but is anyone asking.  

A week after IDAA

I came home from IDAA in Tucson.  The conference centre at the HIlton el Conquistador was stupendous , great views, great rooms, great service.  The first wonder of the conference was seeing and being seen by old friend.  Before Covid I’d usually go to the conference and had been to some 20 but with Covid hadn’t gone.  Some of the folk I kept in touch with at on line Cybcerdocs which had been a god send at the beginning of covid when I truly isolated.  I was  afraid.  I was separated from others and felt truly alienated. I kept working and in touch with the internet.  But there’s limits to that.  

I was so uplifting to see and hugs friends of decades, mentors, colleagues.  What beautiful people.  I loved early morning with Hal.  Dick has carried on the attitude of gratitude series and I so enjoyed spending time with Tommie.  Not only did we sit together in meetings and chat but we had a lunch together again. It was years ago I first had lunch with her and talked motorcycles.  We’ve both ridden our Harley’s to a couple of meetings.  

I was blessed to sit with John the first night.  He’s such a mensch from Seattle and made me feel okay. Art was there with his son and later I’d sit with Carole in a meeting.  Art is truly my hero. Over the years he’s answered some of my most troubling questions regarding work and society.  His success navigating the insaniety has been inspirational.  I loved seeing Hugh and Dianne, Nathan, and Jay, and especially Dave and Mary.  So many of the cyberdocs contingent I meet with regularly were there and we even got together in a break out.  There was Adam and Corinne and Julie and Michael from Canadas was a treat.  Michael and I attend a virtual doctors meetings and yet I only came to know him here at this meeting where he shared his spiritual story and I was shocked at the profound overlap his journey had taken to mine.  We laughed heartily at the detours of course.  

I felt the differences melting away. All the character armour began dropping away as the days went by. I felt vulnerable and afraid and carried on. I attended the Gay meeting with David and Scott and John. It was great to see John remembering him as forever Mardi Gras.  I shared the facets of myself.  We are as sick as our secrets and I was able to accept all of my life rather than reject those parts.  This was me. I am a totality of my various parts. As I accepted the anima and animus of Jung and opened those sexual experiences of my life, those parts I’d relegated with shame to be less whole but ordered, I found I wasn’t projecting my own negativity on those around me. I embraced my humanity and there’s and let go of the fear.  Rick and Ann were new folk I met and enjoyed loving acceptance and really truly loving myself in honesty.  It was a radical love, the love Jesus taught, « love your neighbour as yourself,’. I had spent so long cherry picking love and loving the limited eviction and cut off parts.  I dared to change and felt myself hearing and seeing without the fear and shame,

I really enjoyed the speaks especially the CEO from Betty Ford.  « You are not a victim. If you are here you are a survivor! »I loved the food too. I remember years back fearing I’d not be welcome at the banquet and anxious about who I’d sit with. I sat with so many different people and felt so welcome.  Coming late once I lucked out to sit with Hugh and Dianne.  What truly beautiful inspiring people.  And funny. the humor in these meetings is so profound. We’re born again and childlike and foolish in our laughter.  

I so enjoyed Adam’s story. He and Corinne are such beautiful people, she’s truly cover girl and the couple are like Ryan and his wife, better looking than most of the celebrities Hollywood manages.  Not only did we have the biggest brains for the lot but also we had these shining people. All around the language of the heart hummed. What a spiritual wonder to be part of this tribe.  I can so easily slide into self pity yet here I was reminded that the road that goes higher and higher has had to have its dips.  Innocence lost.  We fall and we get up. Successs is carrying on despite failure.  Resilience.  We talked about this.

I realized my own personal image was Whack a mole.  My character defects pop up and just as I get one back down, to right size or out of sight another pops up.  There I am shoving down lust, as avarice is rearing it’s head, and gluttony is in the wings along with envy. The whole crowd is ganging up on me and most of all there’s spiritual pride.  Just when I think I’m a saint I realized I’m not god and I got searching humility again so maybe I can get back to learning.  The arrogant are stuck and unable to learn till they accept they don’t know.  There I was with my people who struggle as I do to each day be a better person than they were the day before and avoid descending into barbarism or hedonism and all the attractive distractions of modern society.  We are not saints. We are seeking spiritual progress and not perfection.

I swam one day and got the worst sun burn but not on my face as Dave had leant me sunscreen and I’d chose to save my face.  The rest of me was a lobster was it was just great to be in the cool water looking out at the dessert mountains under the blue sky. The whole area is the stuff of cowboys.  Lots of cowboy motifs and early Mexican touches in art. I love the turgoise blue jewelry.

I didn’t sleep the last night with the sun burn and managed to get to the airport feeling really tired and dying waiting in the airport seats back and body aching.  I arrived home and immediately had several bouts of explosive diarrhea and despite sleeping woke with low grade fever and total body pain. I did the no solids and only fluids and let the clinics know I’d work virtual not in person because by then others were saying they’d contracted covid the last day and on the their airplane return. I thought it was all psychosomatic and a product of not sleeping and sun burn but did accept the need for quarantine growing better each day with lingering dry cough. I was happy to finally eat solids ands and feel my life grow. I’d go from no energy to being able to feel alive again and still it seemed psychosomatic, the purge and rebirth, all the depth and enlightenment and sharing at IDAA. I’m booked for the Baltimore meeting next year.  It’s a life saver and was so thankful to join cybertdocs again and see the faces and hear the words of folk I so admire.  

Thank you God for this joyous experience.  Thank you for Laura and Madigan and my safe home to return to and the quick recovery this week.  Thank you for the sunshine and the fresh air.  Thank you Lord for all your blessings.  Thank you

Tucson Conference Friday

Before I came she showed me a picture she painted of me.  Like the photograph I took of myself in the islands.  The artistic self.  Not the warrior. Not the provider protector. But rather the gentle one.  I struggle today with the disparate history.  I am among a tribe, a neighbourhood, a community.  Many here welcome me. I sit at any table and am welcomed. There are none I don’t like. Many I simply don’t know. So many I know I admire. I’m alone in one sense but in so many I’m among my own.  Each of us unique but otherwise so similiar.

I missed the main speaker.  Family origins and trauma. I see these considerations more as fads and fashions.  Each day the world begins and the old Menninger Triangle and the Transactional analysis material is less than the presence of self.  Today is a day for God. I suffer gender dysphoria but mostly in cross dressing. I like to wear skirts, vestigial celtic leftover of the tartan kilt but it’s the silks and satins that appeal

The ladies recognised my nail polish as Lincoln Park after Dark. I laughed that two separately commented and three discussed this. It was like listening to men talk of sports and touch downs.  I’d like to know the names of colours more than than the names of various teams. I’m changing with age and want to adventure into observer but curious not paranoid.  

I can’t underestimate the stress of surviving in this dog eat dog survival of the fittest jungle.  Mostly it’s doing the ‘right thing’.  It’s also accepting. The world is this way.  I don’t feel much joy in application of band aids but the demonstration of kindness is good .I’m releasing my own judgemental ness, getting to the bottom of the law of attraction.

As above so below.  That which I love and hate I attract. If I am judgemental and emotionally entrenched in sone position I bring more of that forward.  Even now the grief of not having children and moving towards the end of life is heavy. Yet I would not have it any other way.  We say we will not ‘regret the past’.  I can’’t change the past but I can change my perspective of it and embrace the myriad facets of myself.   I have loved and been loved. I ‘ve loved in conventional and unconventional ways so I ‘m okay .  

I have masturbated and my whole life and even today is heightened by the beauty of women . Yet there’s a sense of the individual beyond form. There’s the souls which shine in intimacy and the overall package loses appeal. I don’t like fatness and yet it feels good. The emphasis on sight yet in the moment of coupling comfort is paramount.  What I miss though is the fitness, the athletes dancing.  I am at a loss with the physical pain of aging and the limitation and vulnerability of this back injury.  

It’s all psychosomatic, my pain as much a matter of emotion and past as mechanics.  I imagine if my election was robust and I could lift a woman with her back against the wall and plunge my penis into the joy of her vagina I’d be fine. But today I’m afraid to lift most anything. I don’t find that I’m orgasmic with the thrust and miss the youth and premature ejactualtion threat when holding on to make it last and hopefully bring more pleasure to the love was all so important. But then I realized I was working at cross purposes .  The central dishonesty of sexual congress with me struggling to pleasure and arounse the woman, bringing platters of treats to the princess was little more than feeding the raccoons. 

Love your neighbour as yourself. I’ve been generous and kind in love and offered to pleasure in whatever way but that’s been rebuked. The whole feminist Marxist attack on the marriage bed has defined the last decade. Everywhere I turn I see self proclaimed victims and I’m attacked constantly in media and by the Marxist allies. The authorities are deeply evil and I’m punished by racists and sexists whose slick constructionist arguments no longer have any appeal.  They shout ‘me first…..me firsts.

I feel at war and want to drift down the stream and fear I’m alone. I’m more vulnerable and don’t feel protected or even safe with those I know . It’s all the betrayal. 

Yet here I am alive. I’ve obviously complained too much and had too much self pity. I’m feel I’m in the autum of my life and the other seasons were magnificent.

It’s what to do next and there’s no rush.  The months and may be years are fine. I’m fine. I’m progressing but I don’t feel clearly the plan that God has for me. I turn my life over to the care of God.  I ask to know his will and to serve. I’m moving along but wonder at the anchors that hold me in a past that I’m shedding like a skin. What is the future. Who am I.

I must lose weight and become healthy again. I don’t feel that I’m joined in this critical task by those who I am closest to . They’ve lived a life of luxury and hedonism and their bodies like mine show the emotional stuffing and unwillingness to address the central anxiety

Denial of death and fear of death and fear of dying are all central now as so many of those close have passed over. I’m falling and want to fly.  Life is an adventure.  I don’t want to go gentle into that still night.  Rage Rage against the dying of the life. Rather I’d dance.  I simply must counteract the effect of the office desk and seat with a lot more effort and healthy living.  

Thank you Jesus. More comfort in a crowd for me today. My mind is one. My heart another, my body another.  I’m balancing and walking a tightrope forward.  Thank you Jesus. 

Tucson Conference

“Look for the similarities,  not the differences,’ he told me years ago.  I’m terminally unique. I have a sense of alienation and really do feel that if people like me there’s something wrong with them or some kind of catch.  Trauma responses.  Character flaws.  I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop.   I remember feeling a part of when I was drinking and smoking dope. I fit in the circle I was in. 

I have had such support. So many miracles. The people here have truly ‘loved me till I could love myself”.  I was so filled with shame after the betrayals, losses and negative associations.  This program is all about honesty.  I was raised in a Christian community with Christian parents and honesty was essential.  In the last years before I stopped drinking I associated with chronic liars.  Compulsive liars.  And Political liars.  I understood their lack of truth.  Fear is the basis of so much but those that supported them were the problem.  Proxy violence and mob mentality. I was confronted with ‘nests’ and had thought there was only one.  They were like a hospital infection.  The insaniety was real. I wanted to be there then.  Now I look back and it’s like this part of my mind is a mine field.  

“Your mind is a bad neighbourhood. You shouldn’t go there alone,” he said.  

There are a dozen other Canadians here.  Maybe a couple of dozen psychiatrists.  Some single.  Most seem to be married with families.  Lots of Al Anon. Lots of couples . So many of the gay doctors are themselves married. I feel alone. Different. I once felt young and new but now I’m old and I’ve paid my dues.  

We’ve not seen anyone come back from where you’ve been before.’ She was thanking me and looking at me in awe. Resilience but then she didn’t know about all the doctors here who’d held me up till I could stand alone.

Now I still want to isolate. I’m so raw. Talking openly with these men and women I’ve known decades and admire so deeply.  

“I used to have goals and plans and projects and knew where I was going to be in 5 years. I was aiming for things. I had grand adventures and goals and purpose. Now it’s like there’s success all around . I’ve friends and purpose .  Serving God.  Helping patients.  But no real vision.  I’m really living day by day.  Other’s are retiring and I’m continuing to work if only because I’ve nothing better to do . My projects are putting a rack on the front of my truck to carry my truck.  Empty the storage locker.  Let Go and Let God. Surrender.  Drop the rock.  I’m getting through ODAT but no longer on a flight from demons well aware of the hound of heaven.  Be still and know that I am god.

I’m waiting for a sign I guess.  

I’ve sexual identity issues.  So many old people loose interest but I don’t want to go that route. I want to dance till I die. I want to do more hikes and live.  I’m not ready for the sedentary life .  I long to travel, swim more, explore.  Yet I like to work and have reduced the hours from 80 to 40 and might work less yet.  I’ve a sail boat that waits on shore and I could sell it or crew it and all it needs to cross and ocean is anti fouling paint and some topside paint. It’s been on land for five years. I’d rather just take my truck and camper and motorcycle and explore the US and Canada by land. 

I loved Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley and want to write more.  I like to write. I like to visit art galleries and museums, read history and novels.  I’m not as excited by chemistry as I once was.  I’m changing and don’t know who I’ll be in a year.  I don’t like wearing parkas anymore and miss sailing in the tropics dressed in khakis or sarong. I’m looking forward to leaving Canada when the snow flies . It’s as far ahead as I can plan.  Working virtual.  Laura continues to work and our schedules weave in and out.  We were apart in Covid and back together.  I’m happiest in her company .  She’s my favourite human.  

Now I’ve a meeting to got to .  The newcomers introduced themselves and I remembered how afraid I was back then.  Now I’m still searching for God’s will.  But today I head that the key was simply the searching. Each day I wake with prayer and ask for guidance.  It’s worked so far.  Dave shared he still has niggling fears as Tommy spoke about her moments of uncertainty but we all spoke of those unspeakable moments of joy. Practicing the presence of God.