Andrew Scheer and the Conservatives

Occasionally, for brief periods, I feel wrong for criticizing and even mocking our Canadian PM Justin Trudeau.  His fiscal irresponsibility, his cronyism, his financial favouritism of the Global Warming Cult, his divide and conquer intersectional politics, his support for political correctness, his attempt to turn a wide group of often absurd minority positions into a weapon against the majority, his anti Canadian values, his support of criminal killers while demonizing law abiding gun owners, anti western, pro Quebec and pro European Union, communism and such all are all deeply offensive to me.  The postmodern deceit and multiculturalism lies are all Trojan Horses for the true greed that hides poorly under the pretty hair, dope smoke and trust fund confidence.

I am no better than the Americans to the south who sound even worse as their ‘reason’ for ‘Hate Trump’ is merely “we hate Trump’. While I argue that I have sound reasons for fearing the progression of communist socialism under Trudeau the principle American argument is that Trump’s hair and behaviour are unappealing.  Ad hominem, or the losing argument, against the man, character asssssination rather than positional discussion is central. There’s an emotional level which is distasteful. I am no better for I feel similarly for the insincerity of the two faced Ottawa camp.

Yet spiritually and intellectually I believe that it is wrong to be simply a critic who is problem focused rather than builder who is solution focussed. I’m a Conservative, not a very good one, a supposed Pink Tory where I once was called a Blue Liberal. I’m a centrist, or so the various discussions portray me as such while my country by global comparison is centre or left of centre.  I’m a liberal in the US and a Conservative in Canada, and very much a radical in the Middle East.

Andrew Scheer is the leader of the Conservative Party and it’s easy for me, too much a critic myself, to focus on his faults, in my mind, youth and too much a political animal from youth. I preferred Mr. Harper for his economic back ground and Mr. Martin for his businessman success.  I would have liked George Washington as President because he’d been a successful General. I’ve not been fond of hereditary leaders and was concerned about the dynasty of the Bush family and then the crazy idea that the wife of a president or husband for that matter should rule.  There’s something to be said for the family business but it’s not appealed to me.

I like that Andrew Scheer, like Trump, is surrounded by powerful and brilliant women. The women in the Conservative Party are truly amazing.  So much of politics is networks and it reflects so well on Mr. Scheer that he has been able to surround himself with people of character and strength. Personally I love his family.  There’s a truly wholesome traditional quality to his home that speaks well of Canadian values and hard work rather than nannies and parties.  I like the humility that comes with religion and spirituality.  Men of God simply think that they are not God and in politics I believe this is an asset. I like that Mr. Scheer is pro capitalism supporting innovation and meritocracy while appreciating the need for socialistic government where this exists. In today’s economies there is a mixture always of government and private sector but the more socialistic the more centralist and controlled whereas with the capitalism there is decentralization and less control. I believe the latter is what drives economy and profits all. Governments are historically the vampire that sucks the blood out of all endeavours, so prone to cronyism and corruption.  Limiting government , government the cancer in communism and fascism, is what allows for a healthy society. I believe very strongly that Andrew Scheer is not self aggrandizing and not seeking personal wealth and privilege. 

 I believe he has ideals for the growth of Canada and hopes for the benefit of all. I believe he sees Canada not just as a suburb of Quebec but as a great nation of provinces and territories spanning the continent from sea to sea.  He wants the Maritimers and the Northerners, the east and the west to prosper. He believes that the best success for minorities is the prosperity of all rather than the favoritism of the left which rules by tokenism and turning one group against the other. I believe that Andrew Scheer wants all to succeed. I believe he supports the GLBT community but not as clownish adherent but as a central idea of his own conservative belief in the need for all to succeed if one is to succeed.  I believe the GLBT community, sometimes called the Alphabet Soup Group, is rightfully anxious.  I saw during the AIDS crisis how so many who claimed to be ‘loving’ were ‘uncaring’ and even saw the disease spread as a reflection of their own smug beliefs.  I believe that Andrew Scheer is caring for all who have experienced persecution, not the “I’m offended’ kind of persecution, but the real thing, the tortures and victimization by criminals.  

I believe Andrew Scheer favours immigration as Conservatives always have but that immigration must be ‘legal’ and orderly and ‘vetted’ so that we are not a country, like now, known as a place where criminals can come and live freely after doing carnage in other countries and beginning new criminal organizations here. I do not believe Andrew Sheer would cozy up to terrorists like Atwall. I believe that Andrew Scheer supports the concept of ‘queue’.  The illegal financial migrants are bullying their way to the front of the lines and pushing aside those who have waited and respected the laws of Canada. 

 I believe Andrew Scheer supports law and order and knows as well that the Military and Police are necessary because not everyone wants to smoke dope and sing Kumbaya.  I believe that Andrew Scheer will ensure protection of person and property for those who are CAnadian. This is what so many people want to come to Canada for because the countries they are fleeing, the communists especially, have taken all property for the state.  Private property is a cornerstone of conservative, like work and reward are.  Work is a cornerstone of conservatism.

I believe that Andrew Scheer supports the sciences and favours truth.  I believe that Andrew Scheer favours justice and supports the just claims of the native population.  I believe that rural Canadians and Western Canadians will benefit as much from a Conservative government as urban and eastern Canadians will.  I believe that Andrew Scheer is more affected by ‘reality’ than the ‘idealist ideas’ of the left which sound good, appeal to the adolescent,  but have the worst history of failure.  I believe that Andrew Scheer is very much in favour of the environment but won’t get distracted by the dubiousness of carbon taxing and extreme fear mongering of all those who would gain central control by crying over and over that the sky is falling.  I believe that Andrew Scheer is reasonable and has a track record for being down to earth while having high ideals.  He is human and not a cut out card figure image.  He is real and not a mere puppet symbol with an audio command device in his ear. He is transparent.

I especially like that JJ McCullough, a truly brilliant journalist, is a Conservative.  I like that Rempel is a conservative and that when I look around I find that the people I most admire are working, family oriented, home owning, educated people who in the US would have been called the ‘deplorables’ by the legal beurocratic theocracy elite of the swamp. 

My western and eastern friendship network is conservative, truly concerned for the poor and the sick and the old. I am most impressed by the conservative approaches to the Fentanyl epidemic and don’t like the short term band aids and the profits being made for a few to the detriment of the many. 

I believe the Conservatives lead by Andrew Sheer will have more original and long lasting ideas for addressing this epidemic and future crisis the country will face. I believe that the Conservatives despite their name are the party of innovation and the future not mired in Marxist ideology of centuries past but part of the new Enlightenment. I see Andrew Scheer as a product of the internet and cyber games and space age technology. He is intellectually ahead of the game in this regard enlightened by the science and futurism of his children and his involvement in their education and the hopes and dreams he has for their future.

 I can see Andrew Scheer bringing the kind of success to Canada that we will not be mired in second hand Australian planes but will actually advance the space age technology that has us as part of the world Mars expedition and making advances like the Candu Reactors and Communication advances ,space station arm,and the development of Canadian cancer research.

 All this is what thrives in a conservative economy where excellence is rewarded over mediocrity.  I am very hopeful for a future with Andrew Scheer and the Conservatives and need to say this rather than point out the obvious and glaring defects in the alternative.  Andrew Scheer is for freedom of speech and freedom of education and freedom of opportunity.  He’s for transparency and truth.  This all gives me hope.

My Christian aunt was admired for being known as one who praised but was silent regarding those she thought were sick or sad or mislead. She would have had much positive to say about Andrew Scheer and would never speak of Justin Trudeau as she was notably silent about his father and mother.

Maverick Camper Chronicles- rainy holiday monday

Dear God,

I want to thank you for this life. I know I complain and whine too much but really I do appreciate this world and this time here.

I loved my parents and the dogs and good food and houses. Mom was so loving. Dad was such a good man. My brother was an inspiration.  I had good schools and good friends. It was great to camp on holidays .I loved baseball, hockey, shooting.  It was a good childhood in a good neighbourhood with law and order and safety in the suburbs. 

The dance world was a roar. I loved the television and shows and just the day to day work with fine friends.  I loved my marriage, the travel, the intimacy.  I loved overseas and cycling.  I loved returning to Canada too.  I loved white water canoeing. 

The university was thrilling. I loved the study of arts, then biology and the chapel.  University of Winnipeg and then University of Manitoba Medical School. It was all so exciting  and intriguing. I loved the study.  I loved the libraries. I loved my wife and the beauty and elegance of those years.  Young love.  But no children.  Then the bad times and good times.  I loved the country medicine and northern flyin work, igloos and polar bears.  . 

It was fun.  Negative and positive.  I loved the work. I loved the service. I loved the friendship.  I loved the hunting, fishing and homesteading.

Sailing and skiing were fun but sailing was special.  I loved the size of life. Everything was big.  The forces of nature. It was all so larger, large as life.  The great seas, the storms, the distances.  I love expeditions. I love the adventure.

I love the meditation and prayer. I loved learning to be closer to you, loved learning the intricacies of the unconscious, the relationships, the overt and covert, communication and neurology and psychiatry.  I loved the study of spirituality.

 I loved the Marianas.

I loved recovery.  I love the fasting and celebration , the rituals of worship, the study of the Christian Spirituality and 12 steps. I loved the men’s meetings and IDAA.  I loved love making and being naked and together. I loved my dogs. I loved the cats.  I loved reading and writing.

There is just so much to be thankful for.

Today I”m in this new to me truck camper.It’s raining and cold outside but the view of the river and the Douglas fir and pine and spruce and green shrubbery along the river shore is so appealing. I’m sitting in the little booth of this camper slide reminded of the booth in the SV GIRI, liking it so much. I slept an amazing sleep in the loft bed over the truck top on the new firm mattress with clean sheets and new duvet.  Beside me a beautiful warm bodied woman.  I loved that the heater came on to keep the chill off this morning. I loved that as it was raining I was able to use the indoor toilet and not walk to the outhouse. I loved the fresh running water and making coffee on the propane stove. I loved that the refrigerator running off the battery kept the cream and other food cold through the night. I’m still wondering how to get the propane working for the fridge but having a fridge is such a luxury.  I love the lights. I’m just in joy here in the country and blessed to have this little cabin on the back of my truck.  

I’ve been reading a western novel about a guy building a cabin in the woods and enjoying that as I’ve just outfitted and fixed up this little cabin on the back of my truck. Life is good. I’m thankful for all your blessings Lord. I really thank you too for work and the home I return to tomorrow.  I don’t feel my age unless I look in the mirror and feel like it’s been a good run.  It’s been exciting and interesting and loving. 

Help me do thy will and guide me to where I can be of most service to you Lord. Thank you for this part in the whole. I know that when I work doing what is necessary I’m paid and with the pay have bought this camper which employed a whole bunch of people. Every aspect of this machine is almost space age in design and consideration. I love the science and the esthetics that have gone into play. Next to me on one side are tenterd and I’ve loved motorcycle camping with a tent or canoe camping with a tent and lying listening to the rain on canvas. So simple. Now on the other side is a major RV with the luxuries I associate with home.  I have everything here on a small scale and it suits me so well.  I love this camper and am so thankful for this weekend.  

Thank you Lord.  

Networks and Hierarchies

Hieararchy is a form of network with the classic militaristic top down structure.  The more totalitarian a structure, like the Communist socialist structure, the more controlled the network.  The more libertarian a structure is the more diffuse and free without the top down authoritarianism.  Fear and greed beget Authoritarian structures and especially the totalitarian.  

In medicine there is an academic ‘voluntary’ relationship between among physicians.  Prince among princes, is a term for this libertarian relationship of one to another. In this model a specialists ‘advises’ a generalist physician but does not dictate. The ‘front line’ worker is always respected as the person with greatest responsibility and accountability.  In the militaristic authoritarian totalitarian structure the flow of command is top down. 

In the militia, the voluntary nature of the membership was associated with soldiers voting with their ‘feet’, coming and going.  Involuntary membership was associated with the ‘regular army’ with it’s power to hang for ‘desertion’ and a multitude of other offences.

In the medical model, the ‘regulatory’ bodies have usurped the ‘academic’ model or the ‘clinical’ model and increasingly it would appear that the ‘elite’ authority are not only broadly ruling on practice but actually ‘dictating’ the practice of medicine.  The individual physician is increasingly expected to do what he or she is told to do based on euphemistic expressions like ‘best practice’ and ‘evidence based.’  Such terms are ‘text book’ and ‘academic’ and refer to ‘groups’ and ‘broad determinants ‘ of practice which previously had ‘guided’ the individual clinician.  Today though these ‘guidelines’are maintained by the lowest common denominator of authority, legalistic, or militaristic, decision making.  

Any variations from these ‘commands’ are then decided individually by the 19th century rationalism of the ‘game’ of law.  

To identify ‘flaw’ of the law, one merely has to consider the failure of the law to be relevant in all matters ‘Sexual’.  Historic ‘chivarly’ was an agreed relational model for predominantly white upper class participants in a western enlightenment theistic era, where ‘truth’ was considered ‘one’ and ‘authoritative’.  

In post modernism ‘truth’ is ‘relative’ and no one of this ilk feels obligated to tell the ‘whole truth and nothing but the truth’.  Lies are the norm of the courts and even quasi legal authorities with ‘politics’ and ‘favoritism’ overriding the ‘objective ‘truth’.  All is now ‘subjective’.

Women sexually have not be ‘verbal’ in their traditional sexual advances whereas men have been. The man in traditional cultures has ‘initiated’ sex with ‘risk taking’ advances’.  By contrast women have ‘invited’ sex with ‘overt’ invitation.  

Today we have untold hundreds of thousands of men , perhaps millions, maybe trillions falsely accused of sexual Harrassment while women perform ‘slutwalks’ and conveniently ‘deny’ their participation when their sexual agenda is not supported.

Indeed women walk about in vagina hats or pussy hats when all of the legal structure of present society was based on the ‘modest’ and ‘truthful’ woman.

Multiculturalism further obscures the matter because there are indeed cultures where women are the aggressors but men cannot complain about being sexually assaulted as in the culture he is expected to physically beat unwanted females off him, rather than turn to the courts to assist him.

The rate limiting step in the ‘network’ is indeed the ‘hierarchy’ which persists in increasing restrictivenessa and a desire for increasing ‘top down’ structure.  

Presently there is an increasingly pressure on scientists to ‘be popular’ and to ‘have good ratings’ the extreme of which is the Chinese Citizenship Scales celebrating acceptance of authority and promoting individuals without traits to deviate.

Deviance is ironically like the Chinese curse and blessing, may you live in interesting times, interesting. When Canadian women doctors supporting eugenics the precursor of Nazi Final Solution, looked at breeding out ‘deviant’ behaviour it was found that the most successful had themselves deviance or a deviant near relatives. Schizophrenia and genius run in families.

The concern then with communist socialist totalitarian structures and ‘generally’ ‘authoritarian political regulatory’’ ‘quasi legal’ agencies is that beurocracies such as the Chinese Citizenship beurocracy will favour ‘obedience’ over ‘exceptionoal’

Clearly the ‘fearful’ and ‘hateful’ want ‘control’ and ‘dominance’ and fear ‘outliers’ . Herod fearing the birth of Jesus, killed all infants under 2 year old to maintain his position of militaristic authority.

Given that the ‘reformer is the enemy of anyone who benefits from the status quo’ it’s critical to see that these ‘stagnant heirarchal networks’ can’ compete with the more ‘guerilla based’ ‘fluid networks especially in the sciences.  

Steal a little and they put you in jail, steal a lot and they make you king.  The belief of the thug revoluationaries like the communist peasants and the Zimbabwe revolutionaries was that they could take the position of authority with a gun or laws and dominate the ‘networks’ with the rigid controlling militaristic authoritarian regulatory hierarchies.  This worked in the time of Ghengis khan but not today.  

Networks are simply too complex for those with only ‘position authority’ to rule wisely.  Thugs with guns can’t make quantum physicists out compete others even by holding their wives and children hostage.  The cave men painted the walls after successful kills.

Maverick Truck Camper Chronicles Day 3

I woke from a good dream.  I’ve had more of these of late. The last year has been especially grand for sleep.  The lingering sense is that these dreams are of a future place, as best I can tell, my afterlife.  It may just be a future in this life but I seem younger more vital. It’s as if I’m in my 20’s and 30’s again, the decade and more I was a student apprentice.  It was good to be at the university.  I look back at that time of immense learning with great fondness. The lovers and friends are part of that university era.  I’m really so grateful for those years no matter how hard they seemed then.  I acquired such learning in medicine, so many skills, all of which enriched and sustained my latter years.

Now in my dream I was again in a great place of learning. It was Graecian like. Marble columns outside. Beautiful view of the sea in the distance.  On a great hill, perhaps like the Acropolis. Different but with that feel.  There were different rooms in the building I was in each the size of a grand study hall with hundreds of us gathered in white and black attire. Seating was like a restaurant with all of us ushered in.  I saw friends who were so glad to see me. I felt like I do at IDAA.  Surprised that they are happy as I am and I am happy at their happiness and greeting.  Recognition and remembrance.  Nothing negative sullies the experience. Like actors in the green room, we greet each other with animated smiles.  

Each dream is different. There are family and friends in some.  Beautiful young people in others.  The best have my dogs visiting. Last week my deceased friend George was there, leaning against a wall and saluting me with a touch of his hat and that whimsical story telling smile.

Today Tom was seated behind me and Elizabeth was seated near me. I remember Julie catching my eye as well. She looked every bit the ballerina. And Elizabeth was delighted with the words, some ancient, some Latin. We had a tablet each and they scrolled before us as we sang together.  Julie caught me mouthing the words trying to appear like I knew this ancient hymn that had some almost Druidic bits, a song of praise and thanksgiving but with nature interwoven in the meaning.  Thomas Merton had written it but the name he’d used was Boucher. At least that’s what I thought. It was all dream like. 

I love these meetings in the sky.  The whole of this gathering could be on clouds.  I’m childlike with happiness.  Lightness of being. I’m so glad to be apart of.

When the song was over we were streaming out of the building into the sunlight with bright blue sky overhead.

In other dreams in this place I’m sailing.  Sometimes I’m playing ball.  The ones I love I’m in a room of older women and I’m a child again hardly as high as the table, utterly safe, wandering about in curiosity as they chatter above me around the individual tables in this great space.

I feel so connected and wake happy.  At peace.  Reassured.  This too will pass. That future awaits.  I can carry on.

Today I’ve woken to a marvellous site, situated beside this fast flowing river, the sound delightful.  Gilbert woke me at 3 am wanting to come up on the bed. It’s a truck camper and he can’t get up but stands on the couch with his head at the foot of the bed, harrumphing. Not loudly but just enough to waken me. I got up and bumble about for a light. Then found my flip flops and his leash and lifted him down the back . The stairs are difficult enough for humans.  It was clear he’d only wanted up on the bed, to lie beside his love , Laura, having been lonely in the night but this getting a walk was beyond his wildest dreams. I needed to pee and enjoy marking my camp.

I’ve been wandering around at night without even a knife.  A blind cockapoo is not much protection.  Yet I feel safe. Tenting I have a shot gun loaded by the bed but in this truck camper I feel like I’m in a house and haven’t even taken the rifle I have along out of it’s locked case. I did noticed I had only a heavy flashlight, not even a knife last night.  The night was tranquil, gnarly Douglas firs.  I relieved myself beside one.  A full moon peaking in and out of clouds passing by.  In the darkness Gilbert’s blindness less a handicap.  The quiet was special. I was only in a tshirt and it was warm. Alone without other campers around I might have stripped and danced naked in the clearing.  Moon dance.

Tonight I just lifted Gilbert back into the van.  I took off the light red light I’d clipped to his collar and the leash.  He wanted to climb up on the bed but I lifted him down into his little bed and he seemed to accept that, thankful for the entertainment.  This camper is all new to him.  Laura was back to sleep as I crawled back into bed to dream pleasant dreams, enjoying so much my new mattress.  The sheets and new duvet we got yesterday at Fields made for really comfortable and warm sleep after the previous nights chill.

I’m thankful for the new Lordco deep cycle battery I bought and installed .  Despite the refrigerator running on it all night and the water pumps and lights   , this morning there’s good charge left and the lights are bright. I’m glad for the generator and later when others are awake and about I’ll recharge the system.  I’ve not been able to get the refrigerator running off the propane because there’s epithet a shut off valve I”ve not found or more likely air in the lines from not having been used in so long.  All the other systems are functional.  At Home Hardware I was helped by the gentleman salesman who came out and looked at the strut telling me there was a special tool that came with campers to manually raise and lower them.  I found it in the cupboard and sure enough I was able to free the stuck strut on my own. What a relief.  We’d bought the mugs and pot and extension cord I”d needed there. I love they are so friendly with dogs. Gilbert loves the lady who gives him a treat each time he come.  Laura remembered the pot holders.  

After we’d sat outside at Thomasina’s and had turkey pot pie a lattes .  We checked the internet and I uploaded yesterdays musings.  I’ve not got the pictures incorporated. I’m using the Apple I pad to write but haven’t figured how to reduce the pictures to add to the blog.  To date I’ve been adding them to the editing on line whereas there is a way I can add them off line but the size is too large when they’re uplifted. These computer problems seem micro problems to the macro problems of moving this little house through space.  I’m so happy to be here by the river. I’d thought of this place.  I’d love to go to Chain lake again with the boat to go fishing. I’ve got the rod and some tackle from the Princeton Outdoor store.  I’ve been visiting the couple that run that store for decades. I remember buying the layered cameo parka and pants from there and later the binoculars plus ammo and tackle.  I like seeing the familiar faces wondering how long we’ll still be greeting each other , now I’m of an age when so many are retiring. 

I remember Dad saying in his 90’s that all his friends, everyone but my brother and I that he’d known in his life had died. He’d made good friends from the services in the home but he grieved the passing of all those others , especially, mom. I remember looking through the old black and white albums with my now passed brother and the two of us not recognizing these friends of my mothers and fathers from before us. We were in later pictures as babies and toddlers but they were a couple that had obviously been friends for a decade or more in Toronto and been left behind when our family moved west.

I’ve been so blessed with friends. The best are those that make me a better person than I am.  

I’m reading another Rimmer book of Rhodesia and South Africa. It’s such a moving history.  The scourge of socialism and communism. The destruction of society and civilization. The families that carried on.  The aspirations of the people and the trials. I love the writing and am sad to read of all the loss but the love affairs, marriages and children persist inspire of all the changes in the world over the decades of the novels.  Rimmer is such a fine author.  

Laura and I talked of travel.  She’d been out for dinner with some older doctors, a couple who’d been avid world travellers and now think twice of venturing forth. It’s the breakdown of law and order. When young I probably should have feared more murder, theft and rape but now I do fear fights and kidnaping and theft.  I’ve a hankering to see Egypt and Ethiopia.  I want to follow up on the Coptic Christians.  I imagine writing about the diaspora and spread of Christianity with the variations by region.  I’ll be at the conference in India this coming spring and have a chance to follow up on St. Thomas.  I’ll be happy too to see the Sikh and HIndu temples again.  I like to pilgrimage to holy place and love to see my friends on Facebook following in the footsteps of the pilgrims of Europe. I’d love to travel there as well.  Work still seems worth it, the sharing of knowledge, the solving of puzzles the usefulness and comraderie. I like my men’s meeting.  I’m content here and imagine more expeditions to the local wilderness with truck and camper. Gilbert likes this the best so happy to be a part of road trips. He’s not up for flying and I have all the equipment.

Last night we boiled Yukon yellow potatoes and had them with salt and pepper and butter. So delicious with the great steaks I barbecued on the picnic table.  Gilbert loved the tid bits and it really was a glorious repast.  I imagine it’s time for another coffee. I sat and meditated for a bit and prayed.  It’s warmer today and there’s some blue sky.  The campers ahead of us have mountain bikes and a large tent. Two girls and two or three guys. Younger , in their thirties. Behind us are a couple of older couples our age in a large RV with lighted orbs around their area, a demarcation of territory. They built a great fire and sat about it last night.  I’ve brought the wood from Chain Lake and we’ll have another fire.

I’ve not dared to take the camper off the truck fearing I’d not be able to get it back on . I figure I’ll unload it at the storage lot where the owner would be able to help me if I got into trouble. It’s lining up the truck to reload that has me a little concerned .  More steep learning curves.  I imagine I’ll need to get one of those folding trailers to haul the quad on for hunting season. They weren’t too expensive but I don’t know how I’ll have room for that. I keep considering a rack on the front of the truck for a motorcycle.  But if I shot a moose how would I get it home.  With Bill Mewhort we pulled a trailer and brought the moose home in that.  

It’s Sunday.  I would like to be thinking of God and singing holy holy holy in my mind but this is what goes on instead. I do chant. I do say the lord’s prayer many times a day, the serenity prayer, and ‘all shall be well’.  I’m stressed at work but here the stress is dropping off, especially with the sound of the stream and the quiet of the sparse forest.  I’m relaxed again.  Slowing down.  So much terror and hostility at work, so much bullying and threat and politicking petty marionettes abusing authority and power.  So many liars and sociopaths.  Here I’m alone with Laura and Gilbert.  And God. Thank you Jesus. Thank you God of Gods.  Hallelujah. Words of joy and praise.  I would sail between molecules fly through the fabric of this energy matrix, a grand garden you have created for man. Thank you for the colours. Thank you for the scents.  Thank you for the wind and breezes.  I imagine I’ll bicycle and fish today but for now I’ll have another coffee and read more of Zimbabwe.  There are lions and rhinos in that tail which is exotic to me but here there are great bear. Thankfully no snakes and scorpions but enough mosquitos for sure.  It is temperate here now but the real test of this land is the winter and the snow.  So little can live.  In Africa they have heat and constant warmth with deadly life that has had millenial to develop defences.  I enjoy the relative safety here. I know these wilds. I’m even feeling safe enough to walk about at night without a knife. That’s been a while.  As a boy we ranged through these woods but even then I had a pocket knife.  Man is the most dangerous of beasts.  But I’m growing older and feel less capable of punching bear in the nose. 

It is dry here.  The grass brown and green.  Above us there is a camp with a half dozen motorcyclists.  That’s the modern horsemen. It’s definitely horse country here.  I miss my motorcycle.  I’ve ridden this area before having my honda 230 here one year.  Time for another coffee . This really is a decadent luxurious way to camp. This may as well be a little cabin I move about.  It’s so pleasant and self contained.  Another coffee it is.  35 gallons of water and room for 9 gallons of waste.  I filed up the water yesterday when I filled up with gas and we dumped the little bit of shower grey water. The black water will likely limit the time we can spend here except we do have outhouses. I used that this morning.  Rationing and managing the available containers and fuels.  

Another coffee will be good. Laura is asleep with Gilbert curled up beside her.  God life is beautiful. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Maverick Truck Camper Journal

With the new to us  white Palomino Maverick Truck camper on the white Ford F-350 Lariat edition truck feeling like angels, we headed out on the highway for the Canadian wilderness. In the city streets Trump haters and Trudeau lovers ran about in frenzied packs only to stop at intersections to bare ass and leave hot steamy dumps of human waste in protest.  Clashes occurred between cyclists and auto drivers every block.  Every Vancouver gas station had groups of protestors carrying signs   saying “I can’t drive my BMW because of the price of gas..” Along the highway rows of middle class families slouched away from the most expensive city in the world pushing their designer baby buggies carrying their bags of Jimmy Chou shoes, their children forced to walk carrying game boys and hauling behind them diamond studded Pomeranian pets.

We shut off our iPhones and turned off the Pravda CBC and listened to cacophony of auto horns in the bottleneck of Langley.  

“Darling, “ the blond haired  vixen beside me said,” You’re so courageous to drive this big truck with this big load.”

I smiled sweetly back at her, thinking of my hero, Chevy Chase. 

Gilbert, the blind old cockapoo, sat between farting.

The first challenge was filling up with gas, wide load and high. Whenever I drove under anything, no matter how high, I saw images of the camper being torn off the truck. Pulling into the crowded gas station I made such a wide turn I could hardly reach the truck with the pump hose.  The propane tanks were outdated and needed to be replaced.

At the O’Connor RV Parts store, where the people were finest, a gorgeous young woman named Tracy helped me man handle the old mattress out of the truck and put the new mattress in.  When did I change I wondered from admiring a beautiful woman for her obvious sex appeal to liking her strong back and strong legs as she helped the old guy get the new mattress into the camper. 

At Hope we bought groceries. July Long Weekend runs were happening in the potato chip and wiener lanes and fights broke out over the last pop corn packages.  I felt blessed to get a bag of BC Ambrosia apples, steaks, and BC potatoes.

We drove on listening to inspirational IDAA tapes on the radio.  Local radio refused to carry irrelevant political maulings and instead announced pig prices and played praise music.  

Traffic thinned as we passed lovely green pine and spruce, a large golden doe nibbling by the side of road, bald headed eagles circling above in the grey skies threatening rain.   Princeton, finally, Home Hardware still open.  I bought a tiny RV barbecue with a ‘little assembly required’.  A pocket lathe for making metal bits came in the package.  I realized I’d forgotten the charger for the electric bicycle which was a nuisance to load and unload in the camper.  Electric bike chargers are not a common item outside of the city.

We headed north on a winding secondary road, fearing we’d fall over on every tight turn.  I stopped a half dozen times to check the turnbuckles tie downs.  I was vaguely headed up to a logging road Luke, Sunny, Tom and I had hunted one year. I had my Winchester 300 win mag with the thought I might shoot a suicidal bear to share with Naomi nursing the new baby Faith. Her bear hunting husband had been unable to hunt this spring distracted by the birth of his child and instant repurposing as nappy changer.  I even had a fly rod for fishing.

Chain Lakes Wilderness Recreational site appeared.  A terrific site host informed us there really was a site available though all the lake sites were taken. I love these sites with hosts living there.  Guarantees  the rowdies with loud music not wanting to be there.  Dogs and kids and families. RV’s and tents.  

I backed into a place beside a picnic table.  Gilbert and Laura had bailed.  They stood by looking terrified.  No  property damage ensued. . Only later would we learn that when the camper is on the box the jacks can accommodate a tilt to the back but not a tilt forward. I was tilted forward.  To sleep we had extra pillows . Being a sailor I’m used to walking on a tilt. 

The process of getting systems going began. The slide worked.  I disconnected the power cable to the truck so the house battery wouldn’t drain the car battery.  Laura walked Gilbert about so he could sniff and mark his new territory.  I got the propane working. The stove works. The water pumps work.  The refrigerator works on electricity but doesn’t appear to work on propane.  

The lovely wife of the host came by and brought wood so I could made a huge fire.  Laura made the bed up.  Apparently I had brought a duvet cover thinking it was a fitted sheet.  Otherwise we had a bed worthy of a king and queen.  Gilbert loves his little bed but demanded we let him join us at 6 am.  He can only get on the bed being lifted up. To shut off his begging grunts I lifted the little squirmy alarm clock up.  He promptly lay down on Laura’s face to show his love.  Now we were all awake he cuddled and went back to sleep. 

Before bed I’d barbecued half the hotdogs.  

‘Laura these silly hot dogs are individually wrapped.”

“ Yes, we had those as a kid. They must be coming back. Did you take the wrapping off before you put them on the barbecue.?”

“No,” I replied. Following up with, “Could you give me the rest of the hotdogs.”

The plastic adulterated hotdogs went into the fire and the individually unwrapped dogs went on the barbecue.

Laura had brought Cobs buns but we’d not got mustard but had remembered butter.  We ate at the sweet little table on the slide.

I was so tired after that I climbed into bed and slept most of the night waking chilled as I’d forgotten the duvet. I snuggled against Laura missing her earlier menopausal hot flashes but getting enough warmth to go back to sleep.

In the morning I got the heater working to take the chill off. The old house battery was dying faster, dim lights paling more. I couldn’t run the water pump and the heater at the same time.  But later when I heard others running generators,   I started up Honda 2000 generator and got more systems going.   Amazing what can be done with pliers, screw driver and duck tape. 

 Later I got the  hot water heater working.  I made a cup of espresso coffee with cream and honey and was in heaven.  It had rained in the morning.  I walked Gilbert in the fresh air.  The lake was serene.    I still can’t get the strut down because I don’t have a ratchet.  

I’m on my second cup off coffee. There’s no wifi or cell service. The world could have burned up with global warning and I would have missed the talking head discussion of it and the Facebook arguments about it. A nuclear bomb could have exploded in Guam or Israel and I’d not know.  I can feel myself twitching with withdrawal.  I don’t know if Justin Trudeau has given another terrorist 10 million dollars or removed any more Canadian freedoms.  Trump could have finally given in to the constant barrage of hate and shaved his head.  I am reduced to watching one silly dog and will have to survive without funny animal videos.  

We really are roughing it.  I am keeping a record of our terrible deprivation as people in Vancouver will never believe we survived this.  I can see movie producers calling me up next week if we survive and the world still exists. We really are thinking of a run back to Princeton for a new battery and a duvet and possible the ratchet to get the strut to come down.  I’m considering a book deal,  

Laura has dared to shower. I’m hoping a sudden change in water temperature will have her running naked out of the camper.  I can’t decide what’s causing the disorientation more, the lack of wifi or lack of visit to a mall in umpteen hours.  We could get a fix in Princeton. Then head out again to try another dose of supreme roughing it.  We are stowed and could be ready to go in minutes if we just have the courage.  

I’m going to have a shower after Laura.  I’m sure I touched some dirt when I was making the fire last night..  I feel grungy depending on the natural oils of my body.  A little corrosive soap will no doubt help with my decision making. I’ve no cologne with me.  I smell of  Musk Oil ,the very best solution to keeping the tiny flying vampires outside off.   

          

    

  

Canada Day, July 1, Psalm 52

Psalm 52

Why do you boast of evil, you mighty hero?

Why do you boast all day long, you who are a disgrace in the eyes of God?

You who practice deceit, your tongue plots destruction; it is like a sharpened razor.

You love evil rather than good, falsehood rather speaking the truth.

You love every harmful word, you deceitful tongue!

Surely God will bring you down to everlasting ruin:

He will snatch you up and pluck you from your tent;

He will uproot you from the land of the living.

The righteous will see and fear; they will laugh at you saying.

Here now is the man who did not make God his stronghold,

But trusted in his great wealth and grew strong by destroying others!

But I am a like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God;

I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever.

For what you have done I will always praise you in the presence of your faithful people.

And I will hope in your name for your name is good.

Laura told me it was Canada Day and I opened my bible seeking Psalm 51 the recovery psalm, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.” Instead I read Psalm 52.

Naturally thinking of Canada I thought the psalm was about Justin Trudeau and surely it is but when one reads spiritual texts the words are always about oneself.  For in the world of the spirit object and subject are one.  I am that which I love and that which fear. 

Dr. Carl Jung called this the’shadow’.  The energy we have comes from our connection with the dark side within us, that which we project onto others.  I see all that is negative in me in Justin Trudeau. I was like him I believe when I met his father.  I was so full of pride when I was young and experience has humbled me.  I have known humiliation and shame but it is the humbling instead which is like the polishing of a diamond.  My experience has exposed me to my soul that which is interconnected with all other life, ‘all my relations’ in the fullest sense of the aboriginal or the soul in simpler terms. I am encouraged to see others who appear harmful and discordant as childlike or sick, so that I can love rather than fear and hate. 

I feel like a Russian who loved his country and heritage and watched as Lenin, the murderous lawyer fanatic took over the country with his gang of Molotov’s and Stalin, bank robbers and killers, destroying the old and bringing in the new.  Now that has gone and we here in Canada seem to be buying old planes and old ideas. I feel our capital is mired in the colonial and socialist.  Yet we are a country of renewal, a northern realm of celestial northern lights and the promises of spring. We are young and creative in the freshness of potential.  We have no need of the old except in religion and spirituality where the soul remains hidden to be found like the perfect book in the dusty old book shop.

I call out to you Holy Spirit. I seek the other world that winks at me as a mother to a baby. I would follow you this day and put my faith and trust in God. For God is good.  I am thankful for this day and pray that the God of Love and lovers of God dance this day in hope and faith. Another year of a nation that like Israel strays and returns. Like Russia, no longer communist, the aetheism and death cult of Stalin, Molotov’s and Lenin, left for the Orthodox Religion of Jesus.  I loved to stand in the church’s of Moscow and St. Petersburg. I loved being with the orthodox monks in Capadocia.  I would sit in prayer more with those who know the Hound of Heaven is chasing them as he chases me.  I have but to surrender and let the holy waters flow over me. Let me know thy peace.Thy will be done.  Still my fear and business and let me rest in you.  I would rest in you, Lord.  

Thank you Jesus this Sunday, Canada Day.

Maverick Truck Camper Chronicles - Canada Day Afternoon

It’s been a whirlwind of activity today.  Canada Day.  I walked Gilbert this morning. I recall I wrote something.  I shaved.  Gilbert and I did the expedition to the outhouse 5 minutes walk up the hill.

Sometime in the morning I fried onion and mixed eggs and cream to create a scrambled egg sandwich that was so delicious.  I even did the dishes, though mostly we used paper plates.  I burnt the garbage in the pit too.  

I read a lot. The Nial Ferguson book on networks and Cry of the Fish Eagle, the novel about Rhodesia.  I put out the mat carpet, nylon water proof and moved the reclining chairs to it.  The pace picked up.  The sun came out. 

I napped and read and napped and read.  Laura did much the same.  The river was beautiful.  Great view.  

I tried to get the propane refrigerator lit but failed. It ran fine on the generator. I charged the Mac and the Ipad and IPhone and I watch.  I love my Honda 2000 generator. I went back to napping and reading after that. 

 I made bacon sandwiches around 2.  The lady came by to collect the $6 a night to stay.  Laura was undressing inside at the time.  Lovely person, talked  of fishing and her husband’s hunting, last year’s floods and fires effects on the game patterns.  

Laura walked Gilbert. I read and napped.  A bald eagle chase by crows circled above the river.

It was a whirlwind of a day.  

I tried fishing from the shore. After casting a dozen or more times,  I got bored and stopped when I lost a hook.  

Now I’m reading in the camper. The wind had become cold. 

Laura and Gilbert are up in the loft bed. I”m drinking tea.  Life is just too pressured.  

I thought to bicycle today but there wasn’t any time. I was way too busy. Now I don’t know whether to have salads and roast beef sandwiches later or barbecue pork chops. I think I’ll build a fire and have pork chops tomorrow night. There’s just too many decisions.  

This record keeping it way too much. I’m going back to reading and finish my tea.  It’s Canada Day.  I’m experiencing Canada way more here than at some generic fireworks.  

This here is Canada.  Real Canada. Unique outdoor Canada.  

Wilderness in a camper van.  With a dog. And a girl.