HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL

The doggies.
It was a time consuming drive into the city hospital, but we were aware of the traffic problems and had prepared in advance. I was at my brother’s home at 6 AM, and we arrived in the doctor’s office at 9 AM, 15 minutes ahead of his appointment. The results of the scan prompted the doc to schedule a biopsy, and another MRI, both within the next 3 weeks. It is disheartening yet, from the way my bro has been feeling lately, we were kind of expecting something along those lines.

It was past noon when we left the hospital, and I had papers to drop off at the office. Besides, it would maybe give him something else to think about if he could manage to climb the stairs and meet the employees. He did, and was pleased to associate the faces to the names (I talk about them often), and found them all charming. On the way home he dozed off and on in the car. When I finally made it back to the house around 3 PM, I was exhausted too. We all know one’s mental attitude can play havoc with one’s physical abilities. Whether appropriate or not, sleep was necessary, if only to shut the mind down for awhile.

After an hour snooze, I became mobile again, much to the doggies’ delight. They needed attention, and did everything but stand on their heads to get it. Pat me! Love me! Talk to me! Play with me! Their tails tattooed out the message, and anything in reach went flying until I surrendered to their wishes. It was raining outside, so we raced up and down the hallway a few times, hollering and barking, toenails clickity-clacking on the wood floors (theirs, not mine! LOL!) Then Grump & I did the stairs to the garage. Four times I climbed, bearing an armload of wood, the young Grump-puppy, ears back and tongue hanging, racing ahead of me, and Bud standing at the top, wiggling encouragement. He won’t go up and down stairs just for fun anymore; it’s too hard on his ailing body…and Bud is a smart doggie! He has learned to participate without wasting his breath.

Energy spent, the three of us had our meal, then sat quietly by the fire, listening to Anya, her lilting voice singing softly in the background. Relaxing together.

I was surrounded by unconditional love, and felt peace seep in to replace the heaviness that has held my heart captive for the past two days. I remembered my brother telling me today that he watches comedy tapes one after the other, because laughter IS the best medicine. I remembered that it did no good to brood or mope over what MIGHT happen. I remembered that my family finds its strength in caring, which means that together we can handle whatever is thrown at us. I remembered that most in our lives is good.

Then I remembered that I am meeting my dear friend, Kilroy, for a late lunch tomorrow, and that completed my SMILE!

Love from the Bush in Quebec

MONDAY, MONDAY

My Jo, with his lady, Méi
From what I’ve been reading in other blogs, I wasn’t the only one to have a less than satisfactory day. It wasn’t the weather; here in the bush the sun was bright in the clear, blue sky, ideal for walking outside, if one was so inclined. The thought was there; the body couldn’t follow through.

Although very present for the long 9 hour snooze on Saturday, Morpheus was conspicuous by his total absence last night. Not a wink did I sleep. Nothing. Nada.

At 8 AM, frustrated, knowing that travelling to work would be out of the question, I resorted to Asana, those sleep-aids made with natural products. I lay across the bed, watching the clock. When the office opened at 8:30 I’d call… warning that I’d be showing late. I must have finally dropped off because the telephone woke me around 9:30. I mumbled something at my daughter, crawled back under the blankets, and 10 minutes later the darned thing shrilled again. This time it was a co-worker, justifiably wondering why I wasn’t at the office. I repeated my mumble; she hung up, apologetic, but the damage was done. Morpheus had fled, leaving me just dozy enough so that I couldn’t function properly, but not so dozy that I couldn’t fret about the whole situation. There are so many things to be done for the business – we are striving to keep it going, playing continual catch-up after the disastrous events initiated by my ex-associate, and missing a day’s work is NOT good. Just those thoughts alone can keep one awake…and then there’s my son.

I was shocked when I saw him yesterday. I knew the doctors had put him on a strict diet because of his health problem, but his weight loss seems phenomenal! My son is a strapping young man, standing around 6 foot 2 inches, ordinarily wearing 200 lbs. His clothes are hanging on him now, and in such a short time! The doctor he saw last Monday has referred him to another, who he will see on Wednesday, but they are insisting that a colonoscopy cannot be done until the swelling goes down, something that should have happened at least three weeks ago. Although he isn’t one to complain, I could tell his morale was low. He works long hours for his business, which is not yet lucrative enough to sit back and relax. He also has a young wife who is up every 4 hours to breast-feed the baby, plus two very active boys under 6 years of age to contend with at home. It means spending energy that he just doesn’t have right now. The offer for help was pooh-poohed; he’d manage; I was not to worry. Yeh, right!

When one doesn’t sleep, the brain works overtime. Because the brain works overtime, one doesn’t sleep. No wonder Morpheus stayed out of sight!

I’m the first one to admit that everything happens for a reason, but that doesn’t mean that I have to LIKE the reason.

I can’t do anything about it at the moment, so will be patient until he comes back with the doctor’s diagnosis this Wednesday. In the meantime, we need to be at the city hospital for my brother’s lung scan results early tomorrow AM, which means that I should be already in bed. If Morpheus doesn’t show up tonight, he’s fired! I’ll go out and round up sheep from somewhere….build a fence for them to jump over…invest in a huge pooper-scooper…and there – that thought made me SMILE! Thankfully, it doesn’t take much. I’m sending it out to you all, especially to those who shared my mood this Monday.

Yep – tomorrow is another day.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

SNOW, PARSNIPS & JACK.

This is our new neighbour, Jack. I’ll try to refrain from starting each blog with descriptions of the awesome pictures provided by Mother Nature…every day….all for free…right outside my windows. Not being a poet, or a photographer, I can’t do the beauty justice anyway. Still, because I tend to write what I feel, I’ll have to constantly remind myself that I’ve mentioned it over and over again. Yet… it was our first big snowstorm yesterday; the trees are now wearing their winter dress, one can follow the doggies’ wanderings by the solitary tracks across the expanse of white on Bud’s hill, and my mountain rises above it all, not quite completely covered, slightly forbidding with the dark patches of stone showing through…and there…I’m doing it again! Moving on!

Dawna invited me for supper yesterday. Aware of my reluctance to go anywhere when the HABS are playing, she subtly informed me that we would dine only after watching the game together. It was a pleasant evening and, although our chatting did little for my concentration on the game, her husband, Malcolm, was able to fill me in when I missed any of the action. The meal included parsnips. During our culinary feats in Saskatoon, I had mentioned to my friends that I did not like this particular vegetable. In fact, I had not eaten parsnips since leaving the farm when I was 11 years old. Both Dawna and Karen had assured me that the taste all depended on how the dish was prepared, so last night I tentatively added a few to my plate. The girls were right. They were very good. As I drove home, I was imagining how surprised my grandmother would be by me eating them without kicking up a fuss, LOL!

I fell into bed at midnight, and slept right through until 9 AM this morning. Was it the parsnips, you think? If so, I’d clean out the grocery stores, LOL! Jokes aside, I rarely enjoy long, straight hours of sleep, so this morning I’m dancing with energy! Perfect timing too, because there are floors to wash, and a long gallery to shovel. I also want to visit my brother (who, by the way, will get his scan results on Tuesday), and drop by to pick up papers from my son. We do the accounting for his mobile canteen. He tells me he is feeling much better, but I will pull mother’s rank and see for myself…and besides, I’m due for hugs from my rug rats. A great day in perspective.

Before I forget – and this one is for elysianfields, a fellow blogger – yesterday afternoon Bud and Grump warned me there was something going on outside. When I went to the window, I saw a little dog on the road, a very dangerous place to be standing with cars unable to stop on the slippery snow. He was wearing a coat, so I knew he was not a vagabond, but someone’s pet. Fortunately he came when I called, and was so happy to see me; it was evident that he was lost. I brought him into the house, contacted the phone numbers on his collar, and discovered he belongs to a new neighbour, the one who has just moved into my cookie lady’s house. I managed to take a picture of Jack (an appropriate name!) before his owner gratefully picked him up. What do you think, Elyse?

With that said, I need to get doing what there is to do. I hope your day is fine, and that your SMILE is a big as mine, and who said I’m not a poet? LOL!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE TRIO IN SASKATOON

Dawna had a problem setting her camera's timer. By the time it was done, we were finding it hilarious. The wine helped. “Sh*t! We’re going to miss our flight!”
And that’s how my mini-vacation began. Both Dawna and I had arrived 2 ½ hours early at the airport, had checked in, then I convinced her to spend our wait in the bar. I’m not a brave flyer; I prefer my feet to be on solid ground, and was depending on a shot of ‘spirits’ to numb my nerves. When we did cross customs, we thought we had time to spare, and that we were beside our boarding gate, number 49. As luck would have it, there was a Starbucks concession right there! Lattés in hand, we meandered past 48, towards 49…and hit a dead end. We were walking the wrong direction! A glance at our watch told us it was 4:30 PM, the departure hour…then we were running!! The West Jet rep made some wise crack about our ‘Starbuck stop’ as he shooed us up the ramp and onto the plane. Gasping for breath, slightly embarrassed, but still laughing, we scrambled into our seats. I hardly even noticed when we were up and away.

There was a short stop in Toronto. We got off to stretch our legs, and the stewardess warned us that we were to be the FIRST ones back on the plane. What was that comment about, you think? LOL!

It was on to Saskatoon and Karen…and a temperature of -23 degrees…. and falling snow! Winter had arrived before us, and yours truly was wearing running shoes.

It didn’t matter. We spent 4 wonderful days catching up on each others’ lives, laughing together, cooking our specialities, shovelling snow; all very relaxed and just what I needed. We did take a short jaunt into the city centre, and hit a bookstore (of course!), but it was mostly for a ‘wine-run’. Karen had stocked up, but those darned bottles had ghastly holes in them!

My friends endured my hollering as we watched my HABS beat Toronto on Saturday night, and we all cheered when Saskatchewan took the semi finals from Calgary on Sunday afternoon’s football game. Another girl who lives in that area drove 4 hours to drop in and visit. She worked with me during my stint with Montreal’s homeless youth, and we hadn’t seen each other for at least 10 years. We enjoyed an afternoon of reminiscing and updating; she met my friends, and we were introduced to her husband. Another totally pleasant day.

It was quite ironic that my new swimsuit, which had been gathering dust for at least two warm summers in my closet, was first worn outside in freezing temperatures! Karen has a hot tub behind her house. I had never been in one, but both she and Dawna are avid users, and one night we ventured out for my initiation. It was new experience, immersed in bubbling, steaming water, wine glasses frosting in the frigid air, surrounded by the snow we had just traipsed through with bare feet. Picture an overgrown Jacuzzi in a vast white room, with the lights and the furnace heat turned off. Glorious!

Although there’s no place like home, our departure was difficult. The time had just flew by, and as we hugged farewell, it was not without a few tears. However, I think we’ve convinced our Saskabush girl to come spend a few days with us in Quebec just after New Year’s day. Seeing that the snow has followed us back, she should be right in her element!

The flight back was uneventful. I will say that West Jet crew are a nice group; smiling, joking, and very solicitous of their clients’ welfare. I didn’t feel nervous at all during the journey, and that’s something!

I called Karen the evening after our return. We didn’t do the usual 4 hour chat, but we could have. It certainly wasn’t because we had run out of things to say, even after talking a blue streak during our visit. After hanging up the phone, I reflected on how important it has become to keep in close touch with friends. Maybe it’s because our time is less taken with raising families and developing careers, or maybe it’s just that we get wiser with age. Whichever, I feel the need now for regular contact, and realise more and more how precious our friendships can be.

I bet Karen is reading this now and thinking ‘Aw, enough with the sentimental crap!”, and that thought is making me SMILE. Actually, I’m giggling!

Have a good day, folks. I’m hoping there will be many occasions on this holiday (for USA) weekend to make you giggle too!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

BACK TO THE BUSH

I’m back, and I didn’t bring the snow with me, but I do believe it is following close behind. That’s okay. It’s one of the reasons we enjoy this country of ours – the four seasons. Skiers, rejoice!

I have some pictures to put up, and will tell you all about our trip as soon as I can. It was off the airplane and straight to the office before even coming home, and the only time I’ve stopped running since then is when I’ve dropped into bed. Well, except for watching part of the hockey game last night (we won!!), and I see there are two scheduled for the weekend, plus the Grey Cup football finals, where Montreal will be battling Saskatchewan. Maybe we should fly back out there for the game. I’m sure Karen wouldn’t mind our invading her house again….I think we left one or two bottles of wine untapped…LOL!

Needless to say, upon my return the doggies greeted me with their usual enthusiasm. They both spent the evening following me from one room to the other, sticking to me like glue The next morning I woke to find Bud beside the bed, happily curled up on my furry housecoat; he had dragged it out of the suitcase which I had left open on the floor. And that reminds me that I haven’t even unpacked the rest of it yet. Ah well, it’s not going anywhere.

Although I’m supposed to work from home on Thursdays, today I will be going into the office. Tomorrow is my brother’s appointment for his scan at the city hospital, so I’ve changed the timetable to avoid going back and forth twice in the same day. He’s to have his lung scan at 5 PM; smack in the middle of rush hour, and I expect that’s another hockey game where I’ll be listening to the first period on the car radio! I’ll have to speak to the doctor about his timing!

That’s it for now – off to the jungle I go. It’s a beautiful sunny day here. The air is crisp, and life is good, and this lady is SMILING! Have a nice one, y’all!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

OUT OF THE COMFORT ZONE

(Photo courtesy of Photobucket)
We humans are creatures of habit and, although most of us like a challenge, we are wary when doing something outside our comfort zone.

I have friends who live in the country and very rarely leave the immediate area. They are used to navigating narrow, winding, dirt roads where, at night, only your headlights pierce the darkness. One has to be forever vigilant for animals jumping out in front of your vehicle. Your car breaking down in the middle of nowhere means you may or may not have a long walk before, or if, a good Samaritan shows up to help. Many country folk do not carry cell phones, and often trees and mountains will hamper the signal anyway, so the phones are not much use. You are on your own, and it can be scary walking in the bush in the dark. Yet these friends hate the thought of driving on the auto route or in the city. Too much traffic, they declare. Crazy drivers – you never know what kind of wild person you will meet – it’s nerve-wracking! Give us the country roads any day!

I also have friends who are city dwellers. If you mention driving country roads to these individuals, they come out with all the points I mentioned above, the most prominent one being the absence of street lights. They feel completely isolated if they have not met another car within 15 minutes, and it makes them uneasy. A country jaunt is okay as long as you are not alone in the car, and preferably during daylight hours.

The subject came up yesterday when Line, who will be the dog-sitter while I am on my trip, gave me her GPS to bring home with me last night. Her sense of orientation outside the city is not the best, and my programming the route into this little machine will keep her from getting lost. Each of the numerous times she has come to visit, I was the driver, and she didn’t need to pay attention to direction. The other employees, who reside within a 15 minute bus ride from the office, find her very brave, or maybe fool hardy, for even attempting such a feat.

It all depends what one is used to, of course. The girls expressed admiration for yours truly, because I am, fortunately, at ease either way. I have walked the country roads alone, in the dark, on more than one occasion, especially in my younger years when what I could afford was beat-up automobiles which ran mostly on a prayer. Some nights the prayers just didn’t work! I have also walked the city’s worst streets, again in the middle of the night, when I was working with the homeless youth. I was cautious, but not worried. In my case, heavy traffic has become a way of life and, although it can be frustrating, it isn’t frightening. I could brag that my comfort zone is pretty wide…until I have to get on an airplane…which is going to happen soon…and we won’t go into that just yet!

Speaking of which, I am not ready to leave. Reading Kilroy’s blog this morning (he just returned from a vacation cruise) reminded me of all the running around that must be done when preparing our departure, and then to catch up when we return. The older I get, the more I’d just as soon use my time off to stay at home with the doggies, taking walks in my familiar bush, curling up with a good book by the fire, hugging my little rug rats, and having friends in instead of me going out. My mind set will change as soon as I arrive safely at Karen’s place in Saskatoon, of course. It’s just the first step outside my comfort zone I find perturbing…and that just put an end to my bragging, LOL!

One thing for sure, things aren’t getting done while I’m sitting here writing. It’s time to get my butt in gear, so I’ll send you my warmest vibes and a reminder that, if you have to leave YOUR comfort zone today, do it with a huge SMILE; it will surely make the challenge easier to handle.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

HODGE PODGE OF INFO!

My new tenant, Grandson F.
And my helper. He chopped for four straight hours!

Some weekend! Saturday was used to do laundry and housework, a little extra in that department because I am also preparing for my trip out west, which includes getting my house ready for my dog sitters. It won’t be my brother this time. Fran isn’t around, and I don’t want him stuck out here in the bush alone, without a vehicle, and not feeling the best anyway. Line, one of my co-workers, and her significant other will be doing the honours. Line has slept over here often; she’s a partner for the senior homes (which are still on the drawing board) and both dogs know her well. She lives in a compact condo downtown in old Montreal, and she assures me that it will be a treat for her to spend the 5 days here; fireplace, Jacuzzi, wide open spaces, room to run around…all good for a change.

Speaking of change, my daughter has put her house up for sale (after being there for under a year) and is planning to buy another closer to her youngest boy’s school. He is our sports dude, and Shan is constantly on the road either for school, for hockey, for soccer…this way she will be more central to all the activity and it will cut down hugely on the constant travel. But – her oldest, who was renting her basement, wants to stay in this area. He is often away working, but his home base will now be the apartment in his M’mère’s house (that’s me!). I was delighted when he asked, of course said yes, and he came by during the day to take a good look at it, and to clean a space out in the garage for his car.

Back to the present. We lost another person to suicide yesterday. The poor fellow had no money problems. He’s lately retired from a lifelong job, a good one, and was caring for his elderly mother. It seems he was wishing he had kept working – felt his life no longer had purpose. How sad. The man was only 55 years old.

A few days ago, one of my neighbours borrowed my backhoe to help set up his tempo (plastic garage) and returned the favour by dropping off a pile of cedar lengths. It’s the best wood for kindling, so I was quite happy with the exchange. It needed to be chopped into small pieces, and I contacted my deceased friend’s young lad who often helps me when strength is required. He has been out there swinging the axe for the past four hours. My brother (his ‘adopted’ dad) came over for the day too, to supervise, he called it, but I strongly suspect it is mostly because he needed the company.

The chopping had just begun when my friend, Helen, showed up, proud as punch, to take me for a drive in her brand new 2011 Jetta. She will be turning 70 in January, and this is the first new automobile she has ever owned. That lady has worked hard all her life, has helped so many people for so long, and can you believe it? She was feeling guilty about spending HER money on something for HERSELF! It was a nice ride, and I am thrilled for her!

My youngest son (the daddy of my 3 rug rats) has been in bad pain for a couple of weeks now. The doctors suspect diverticulitis, rare enough for someone as young as J., but can’t be sure until the swelling goes down and further testing can be done. He spent most of today at the hospital again, and his energy level is very low. Mom is worried, and not too crazy about flying halfway across the country when one of her children is sick, although I doubt he’d appreciate having me hover around as if he was a little tyke, especially for tests of that particular nature, LOL!

My grandson has just arrived to put his car in the garage. He’s leaving for the Gaspésie tomorrow morning, where he will spend 10 days working before coming back for the 5 days off. I’m going to try to feed him some supper, so wish you all a good evening, and you know, as would any grandmother who gets to spoil her grandson, that I am SMILING! Sharing it with you!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE LOST COOKIE-WOMAN

(Picture courtesy of Readers Digest Cookie Book)
Did I tell you that I’ve lost my cookie-woman? I blogged about her delivering all those homemade goodies just before Christmas last year; the new neighbour who wasn’t quite sure why her family had moved here – other than it was her husband’s idea. A spur-of-the-moment thing; a pipedream; a decision made without considering what an enormous change it would be for his teenage sons, his little daughter who was unwilling to transfer to a new school in mid-term, and his wife who would now have to travel nearly 2 hours each way to her job. A ‘citified’ group whose experience in the country consisted of a couple of holiday weekends spent at a cousin’s house, where a good time was had by all, but not enough time to absorb the total difference in country living. Besides, the dude went a step further and bought his house out in the BUSH!

Newsflash, sir! There is no public transport here. You need to drive yourself over snowy, slippery roads for at least 20 minutes if you forget that pint of milk. And you thought your children’s pet kitten would enjoy a stroll in the country air? Another wrong decision. There are wild animals to beware of, and hawks….

Running water is YOUR responsibility; the city has nothing to do with it. Your garbage had better be locked away, because bush animals WILL spread it all over the yard, over and over again. Red pepper is not a deterrent; they’ve seen worse. Black flies? Well no, I’ve never heard of any product to get rid of them. One gets used to it, or stays indoors, and you wear long sleeved shirts during that season no matter how nice the weather is.

When the electricity fails (often – tree branches on the wires, etc.), the areas with higher population get repairs first; being isolated as you are now means your house is last on the list, so you wait…and wait…and wait. Yes, generators are an expensive and noisy option.

High speed internet needed to download games and the films your sons live for? Sorry, not available. That could be part of the reason why the boys now spend most of the time at their friends’ places in town.

One more thing – people living in the bush are there because they actually like being solitary. We don’t hang out in each other’s houses everyday; very little chitchat goes on; and there is no telling each other’s life story at the drop of a hat.

And certainly, when checking out the place before buying it, you noticed that the numerous dogs were running loose? And you thought what? That they would be tied once you moved in??? By the way, here in the Bush, if you have a problem with a neighbour, you first go see that person to talk it out. You do NOT write letters of complaint to the municipal authorities, and you do NOT call the police unless all else fails.

Does the above sound mean-spirited? Unfortunately, it’s just the simple truth. The man did not use Kilroy’s TTT method (Think Things Through), and everyone in his entourage was paying for it. Fortunately, none of the above involved me directly. I heard about it off and on from my other neighbours. I was only aware of their leaving after seeing the ‘For Sale’ sign on the property, and that happened nearly a month after they had already gone. At one point, during their stay here, my agency offered the wife a job in this area, but she refused. I guess she was already working on moving back to the city. On the rare occasions that I did see her, each time by the central mailbox, she seemed to have lost her smile. I got the impression that her family was falling apart, and she didn’t like it. I had finally met her husband and hadn’t been impressed. Too buddy-buddy for me.

I’m happy for my cookie-woman. I’ll bet that she is thankful to be back in familiar territory. I’ll remember her this Christmas; delivering her cookie tins was a nice gesture, and her shortbread melted in your mouth! I guess I’ll have to make my own this year. That’s okay. I enjoy baking, and I’ll be thinking of her, certain that she is SMILING now, as she prepares little cookie tins for her new neighbours….

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

AND ON THIS WEDNESDAY

My rug-rats in the Jacuzzi

I could tell by my brother’s voice he wasn’t feeling well at all. He rarely calls me at the office, so when the receptionist told me he was on the phone, I knew something was wrong. He said he ‘wasn’t bad’ when I asked, but the dude has to be literally dying before he’ll admit it – he’s doesn’t want me to worry.

Right!

He was in pain. That hole in his throat is causing all sorts of problems, one of them being re-occurring pneumonia. His appointment for the lung scan is only on my return from Saskatoon – two weeks away. However, he will be seeing his family doctor early in the morning of my departure. I’ll have time to go with him and make sure she gives him adequate medication. Suffering is NOT an option! I contacted my youngest son, Jo, who had been on morphine a few weeks ago for a stomach problem. As I suspected, he still had some pills, so he ran them up to his Uncle Bird.

I left the office late, but decided the doggies could wait another hour, and drove on to my bro’s apartment. He was a bit better, he said, and was hoping the donation from Jo would help him pass the night. He’s sleeping now, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it will last at least until tomorrow morning when the pharmacy opens.

It had been 11 days since I’d last seen my rug-rats, and I was in the area, so why not? I stopped off at Jo’s place and, sure enough, was rewarded by hugs and kisses from my two little grandsons. The baby was already in bed, but two outta three ain’t bad! N. was happy to tell me that he got a smiley face on his sheet from kindergarten today; a super day, he called it. B. was dancing and singing with the cartoon on the TV when I left. I drove home, smiling all over just from having shared some time with them. They are a no-fail recipe for feeling good!

The doggies were patiently waiting, and gave me the usual exuberant greeting when I arrived at the house. We went for a short walk. There is something magic about the bush in the evening. It was dark but not at all cold outside; the stars were bright in the sky, and it was so quiet and peaceful! Our stroll was just long enough to sharpen our appetites. After our meal I sat on my rocker by the fire in the kitchen/dining area and watched them wrestle (showing off for the mistress), answered the phone a couple of times (I’m on call), then did my stint in the Jacuzzi. Now I’m going to hunt down that Morpheus fellow and take him to bed, LOL!

Hoping you are having sweet dreams, my friends. If you see someone in there with a huge SMILE, it may be yours truly…..who managed to trap Morpheus after all, LOL!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

NUMBERS OR WORDS?

This one person who has been reading my blogs for awhile sent me an e-mail. “Have you ever thought of writing for a living? If not, you should.” he wrote. I replied with “XOXOXO…” all over the page, adding a footnote that he had made my day. I’d have reacted the same way if someone, in those good old days when I played the game, would have asked the same question, substituting ‘playing professional hockey’ for ‘writing’. Dreams. We all have them; few of us pursue them. We get caught up in the everyday effort of making a living.

My teachers thought I would be working in the writing industry too. Not one of them ever imagined I would end up in accounting, except maybe Mr. Papa – our science/geometry/trig professor. I can remember being ordered to meet him in the library for a serious discussion. It was during the ‘boys-boys-boys’ year. He was adamant about warning me that I was letting things go; my marks were losing ground; I had stopped paying attention; I could and should do better. Because I respected him, and was surprised that he cared (this kind of meeting really wasn’t his style), I listened. He probably had much to do with me being okay today. (Hear that, Auslander?) By the way, he was also the one who was present for our after-grad party, and endured my drunken, maudlin expressions of thanks until I went outside to up-chuck all those rum zombies I had imbued during the evening, LOL!

But back to my coveted e-mail. I have been writing all my life; diaries, letters, little stories, poems, fairy tales for my kids, homemade greeting cards. It’s part of me, even if it’s not the professional part. I usually have three to four stories started, but not completed, at any one time on my computer. I keep thinking that when I retire, I’ll get more serious about it. I’ll do my homework in the writer’s market, send out manuscripts, have more time, etc. I’ll become a writer. The revenues will be a welcome addition to my pension. Okay, noted, but in no way certain. Maybe if I wrote a book on procrastination…but that’s been done. I’ve read bits and parts of it, and it didn’t help at all.

Just for fun, I’m going to copy a few lines of a one of my projects here. Feedback would be nice, but not necessary.

The directions from the anonymous voice had been chilling, but accurate. Fifteen minutes later, they found the body. It was exactly where the caller said it would be, but nothing had prepared them for the state of the cadaver. In spite of the multitude of blowflies, the atrocities were easily discernable. Staring down, the Sheriff fumbled for the handkerchief in his pocket, yanked it out to cover his nose and mouth, forcing himself to keep from gagging. The young rookie made a noise, then turned away and started to retch. Well hidden, the voyeur smiled as he shifted the binoculars. He watched them until the hearse arrived, then crept silently away. He would contact them later that night with another tip, just when they’d be thinking everything was over. It was only beginning.
And that’s it for now folks. I have work to do, dog food to buy. Wishing you all a good day, with many adventures and lots of SMILES!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

LOOKING FOR CAESAR.

(This photo is courtesy of Photobucket. I still haven't found the adaptor for my own camera to show you the real Louka, but this doggie could be her twin)

I think my two dogs have made a pact with the neighbour’s two dogs. It used to be that Bud and Grump-puppy would only bark if someone was coming up the driveway and, believe me, they have lots of time to warn me before the intruder reaches the house. Ditto for the hounds across the road. Now, however, if anyone even turns into one yard or the other, the whole four of them raise voice. It has been happening since the beautiful Louka moved in. Not only does she run the show and initiate the squabbles, she also wanders around at night, or sits howling, and gets everybody going when the humans (her servants) are trying to sleep. She’s not into obeying orders; neither those of her master, nor those of the lady who gives her treats (me). A typical husky mix, she believes in doing pretty well what she wants whenever she wants. Ah, Caesar – where are you when we need you??

Speaking of the famous dog-whisperer, he held an event last week at the Bell Center in Montreal, the home of my Canadiens. I missed it (there was a hockey game going on elsewhere) but have heard attendees rave that it was spectacular. The man is not only an expert on canines; it seems he can also put on quite a show. I’m having regrets now. I really should have talked Louka’s master into dragging that gorgeous beast into Caesar’s presence, and maybe everyone around here would have an easier time of it. Don’t get me wrong. I admire a dog with character – just not when its character is stronger than mine! If Louka was human, I strongly suspect that she’d be in the Paris Hilton group, or maybe competition for Lindsay Lohan. Still, one can’t help but love her. She is such a cuddly doggie. A gentle wave of her bushy tail with the sincere, apologetic look from her expressive eyes and we're all convinced to overlook her shenanigans.

My first weekend in November was relatively quiet, especially compared to those of October, where my house was filled with family and friends. I mostly cleaned, just taking time out to meet my ex-associate for an hour, once more to discuss our situation. I regretted the move afterwards, even if it was a necessary evil. The enormous pressure he is under is wearing on him, and his trumped-up excuses cut deep into any respect I still feel for him. It ended with my realizing that he is scrambling, doing and saying anything and everything to avoid paying what he owes. After I walked away, I sat in my truck for at least 20 minutes, analysing what, if anything, was left of our relationship. I discovered that I felt only pity for what has become an extremely sorry excuse for a friend.

But.....

Mother Nature afforded us a sunny, pleasant temperature on the day we turned back our clocks. The Weather Network assures me that the whole week to follow will be similar. Sunshine AND an extra hour of sleep?? Now, how can that not make me SMILE?

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE SCREAM!

Last Thursday I received a few animated Halloween cards by e-mail, one of which made me jump out of my chair. The first scene finds you standing outside an old, haunted house, complete with the ragged trees and full moon partially hidden behind clouds. You walk through the creaking door to the sounds of eerie music, look around the spooky interior, then start up the blood-covered stairs. You know, of course, that something is going to happen, but the horrific scream took me by surprise. It was so LOUD, and blasted out at me when I was halfway through the climb instead of right at the top of the steps. I wasn’t quite prepared, and my reaction nearly knocked over the coffee sitting on my desk, LOL!

It was at that moment a little devil prodded my shoulder.

The receptionist at our office, Jay, is a beautiful, young lady whose family is originally from Haiti. She’s a sweet person, but also what my grandson would call a ‘scardy-cat’. I can still picture the tentative look in her huge, brown eyes when I told her that, no, she couldn’t lock the outside door even if she was alone at the office. What if a client wanted to come in? From where her desk is situated, she was unable to see if anyone was there until the person entered the waiting room.

I knew she was alone there last Thursday. We had talked on the telephone more than once for business purposes. I also figured that there would be no lights on in my part of the office (which is beside Jay’s desk) and remembered that the volume was loud on my work computer. Today’s technology is awesome, isn’t it? I forwarded the Halloween card to my business e-mail address, then logged onto the office server to open it up. I sat giggling as I watched it play on the distant screen, imaging Jay’s reaction when she would hear that chilling scream come out of the dark beside her.

It worked better than I thought! Still laughing so hard that I could hardly speak, I phoned the office. It was on the third ring before she picked up, and whatever she was gasping was unintelligible. By this time I had tears rolling down my face. Finally we both were coherent, and she told me that she was running out the door; that I was lucky that she even came back inside when she heard the phone. Then her words set me off again. “It frightened me so much, I think I turned white!!” she said. My stomach was still hurting an hour after we ended our conversation!

Trick or treat, right? Come to think of it, Jay was the only one of my colleagues who didn’t leave any goodies on my desk! But that’s okay. Our little episode will give us years of SMILES, and those are sweeter than any candy!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

(picture courtesy of Photobucket)

YOU GOT HAIR!!!

It happens in every family. An event occurs, usual spontaneous, from which is born a saying; something only the people who were present at the time will understand when hearing the phrase years later. In a family as large and as close as mine, we have many of these moments; a slew of inside jokes that will last a lifetime. I’m going to share with you the most recent one.

We were sitting around the remnants of the Thanksgiving turkey, all of us laughing at a story being told by our born comedian, my oldest son Bow. The children were running back and forth, now and then stopping to lean on a chair or against one of the adults, listening in for a bit before scampering away to play again. At this particular moment, Bow emphasised whatever he was saying by uttering a swear word. Amid the gales of laughter, a small voice piped up, "Uncle Bow, you just said a BAD word!” It was my 5 year old grandson, N., who, unnoticed by his uncle, was on the chair right beside him, and was now looking at Bow with censure in his eyes.

Bow threw me a “Oops!” glance. I raised my eyebrows, but remained silent. What would our master of improvising come up with? It took only a second, then, his expression dead-pan serious, he launched into his explanation.

“True, N.,” he answered his nephew. “But Uncle Bow is allowed to say those words now and then because….” We waited in anticipation. Bow rubbed his hand over his bald head as he continued, “well, because I’ve got no hair.”

There were sounds of stifled laughter, and throat clearing, everyone watching N.’s reaction. He was gazing at his adored uncle, his face expectant, listening intently.

“You see, “ Bow leaned over as touched N.’s short locks. “You can’t say those words, because you DO have hair! One day when you’re bigger, and IF you’re bald like Uncle Bow, then you can say them sometimes. Not all the time, mind you, and only if you have no hair…and even then, only sometimes.”

N.’s big brown eyes scanned the table, looking at each one of our heads.

“That’s right, N.!” his uncle exclaimed, knowing the reason for the scrutiny. “They all have hair! The only one allowed to say bad words here is me, your Uncle Bow!”

The laughter was rampant then, and I heard N.’s dad, although just as amused as the rest of us, trying to tell his son that it wasn’t true, nobody should swear, Uncle Bow was joking. Too little, too late.

N., of course, told all this to his mom the next day. She, too, tried to warn him that his Uncle had been pulling his leg. No-one should be swearing. Little did she realize that the trend had been set.

It was a week later. The house was full of family again, this time for Halloween. My daughter and I were playing with the children and, as she turned back towards me, Shan banged her knee on the coffee table. “Ow, sh*t!” she moaned. She immediately caught herself; her hand came up over her mouth and she looked around to see if any of the little ones had heard her. Who else was right there, his eyes wide as he stared up, but N.! She looked at me, at a loss for words.

“Hey!” I told her, pointing to her head. “You can’t swear – you got hair!!” N. nodded his agreement, and repeated it loudly. We waited until we walked back to the table before grinning at each other. “That crazy Bow!” Shan laughed. “This one is going to stay!”

So true! And I can picture it now: somewhere, sometime, somebody swearing for one reason or another, then scratching his head in confusion when a little finger points at him and he is told, “Hey! You can’t say that. You got hair!”

It’s one of those moments where you just have to SMILE!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.