KEEP ON KEEPIN' ON

Suzie wants me to go with her to a party tonight to ring in the New Year; in fact, she has already bought our tickets required for attendance. She has been planning it for a couple of months now, showed me her new dress, named those who would also be celebrating with us. It will be held in a small country bar – the one I used to own a long time ago. Even though reluctant from the outset, I had agreed to participate.

It’s not going to happen.

I’ll run up to see her today, pay her the $8.00 she spent on the ticket (which she can give to someone else if she wishes), and beg off. I hate to disappoint her, and I know she will be disappointed, but I just can’t do it.

Last year Bird and I were to accompany Suzie to this same place for the yearly ‘do’. I had $20.00 in my pocket, and I knew he was flat broke, but I figured I’d have enough to buy us each a beer, then we could come back to my house and continue celebrating with brandy and eggnog, our New Year’s tradition. When I arrived to pick him up, Bird warned me about the cover charge.

“8$ each,” he said. “Sorry, sis – I don’t have it.” Neither did I. His costs were not all covered by health insurance, and had made a huge dent in our pocketbooks during the past few months, and we knew there were more to come.

We decided to forget it. The most important thing was to be together anyway. I called and left a message for Suzie, then Bird and I headed back to the bush, stopping at the convenience store just long enough to purchase some julienne bacon-hickory chips, Bird’s preferred snack. Once home, we mixed our brandies, put on a couple of his CD’s with our favourite tunes, then settled beside the Christmas tree, laughing at the antics of an enthusiastic Bud (who was sick but still here), and Grump-puppy; they were both quite agreeable that their humans stick around.

In the end of January, when I lost my Bud, I shut myself away from the world for three days. I screamed, I cried a million tears; I cuddled with a mourning Grump-puppy on the couch...and let the pain cut through me until it made me choke. On the fourth day, I picked myself up and got back to living. I still miss Bud enormously, but the sharp edge of his loss, that all-encompassing grief, had been dulled because I had allowed myself to vent.

I can be strong when I need to be, but lately I find myself tearing up at the most inopportune moments – waiting in line at the bank, on my way to visit a client, in the aisles at the grocery store. I recognize that I’m on the edge, and tears are a very private thing for me. I am much too fragile to attend a party where many of Bird’s friends, and memories, will be in evidence. Alcohol tends to bring out well-meaning but maudlin sentiments; no way can I handle that right now.

I think I’ll just run into town this afternoon, pick up a small bottle of brandy, some eggnog, and some julienne chips, then come back and await 2012 quietly in the bush, just me and Grump. If venting happens, so be it. If not, it’s because I’m not ready yet. Either way, I know I’ll feel Bird’s presence – Bud will be here too - and together we’ll toast to ‘keep on keepin’ on’.

Sending you wishes for a HAPPY NEW YEAR, folks! And, of course, those wishes are floating out to you on a huge SMILE!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE CASE OF THE MISSING....

Photo by tmonastero in Photobucket

I can’t find my camera...the nice one that the kids gave me for my birthday last year. I’ve looked high and low to no avail. When not in use, it always sat on my desk, snug in its little box together with the necessary adaptors to download pictures to my computer.

I realize that my office has been changed around more than once during the last 6 months. It became Bird’s bedroom...where all my stuff was moved out and his moved in. Then it became my office again...and was rearranged once more when the movers carried in some filing cabinets and a second desk that I needed to make my work space more efficient. In fact, I fear that is the LAST time I can remember seeing my camera. And the thought that maybe this is the reason I can no longer find it is not sitting well.

I was alone here when the move was being done. Most of the office equipment, furniture, and boxes upon boxes of documents were stacked in my garage for storage...until whatever can be sold will be removed, and documents filed. Two of the four movers carried the cabinets and desks upstairs and, under my direction, put them in their designated places. Later, still unloading the truck, and at different times, the men asked to use the bathroom, which is also upstairs. I agreed, of course, but was intent on seeing that certain boxes of documents be placed for easy access...so I let them go up on their own. One must pass by my office to get to the bathroom. My camera sat on the desk just inside the office door. It would take all of 2 seconds to grab that little box and hide it inside a shirt.

I really, really hope that I am suffering memory lapse... that I find the camera here somewhere...later on...when I’m looking for something else. The owner of the moving company is an acquaintance, and I’m wondering if I should mention it to him. I have no proof, and the disappearance was noticed only a couple of days ago when I wanted to take pictures of our snow....two weeks after the move.

Losing the camera is already a bummer. What upsets me most is the potential loss of the many pictures of Bird, and my rug-rats, that I hadn’t yet copied; memories that can never be recovered if the camera is really gone.

Okay. No use dwelling on it, is there? Worse things could happen, and there is much to do yet before the family-friend invasion for the big day, so I’ll put disturbing thoughts in the back of my mind for now.

There are beautiful, huge flakes floating down past my windows as I write this; it will be a white Christmas after all...and that makes me SMILE!!

Sending out huge ones to all of you, and wishing you all a very MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

DIS, DAT, AN' DOSE TING

Love this picture!

-Like Wiley, I’ve been having these weird dreams that force me to get up and pace around in the middle of the night. It is said that we all dream when we sleep. Maybe, but it was rare I would remember them the next day. Now I can’t forget the darned things. Not that they are all bad...they’re just completely off the wall, peopled with characters I have not seen or heard of for ages, or that I don’t recall meeting at all, and events that have me shaking my head in confusion – asking myself, “Now where did that come from?”. Our friend, Muley, had a post in his blog about learning to control our dreams. I’m going to have to look at that one again.

-My daughter came by last Saturday and spent the whole day helping me to unpack some of those office boxes and move things around to make room for the Christmas tree. It’s finally up, now it’s the decorating to be done. For some reason, I was thinking I had two more weeks until Christmas Day, when 22 to 25 visitors will be here for our traditional supper. The light bulb clicked in my brain last Friday...Christmas was next weekend!!! I had piles of documents demanding immediate attention, a huge house to clean, food to buy and cook, gifts to be bought and wrapped.....gulp! Ha! No panic. It happens every year. By Sunday night the meat pies and Christmas pork stew and fillings for stuffed bread were cooked and stacked in the freezer and/or fridge – I’m on a roll!

-Have you seen the big hullaballoo about my HABS being coached by an ‘English-only’ fellow? As if language, especially with most of the players not even speaking French, makes any difference to the sloppy way the team is playing at the moment! Our Quebec nationalists (no way am I putting a capital letter on that word!!) are having a field day, egged on by the media, of course. Idjuts, every one of them in my opinion.

-Now, a valid reason to lament is what happened to my youngest son, Jo. He went for his vasectomy yesterday. He got a butcher, who couldn’t find his way around, plus the local freezing didn’t take. My poor son endured it for 90 minutes, instead of the 30 minutes usual for such a procedure, and is black and blue down there. That’s pain! What’s more, his appointment with the surgeon who will be removing part of Jo’s intestine (it’s diverticulitis) is this afternoon. Hopefully the operation will be scheduled right after the holiday. And, in case it makes a difference, Jo is thoroughly bilingual! (Smirk!)

-Last, but not least, Grump is pouting. Mistress has not allotted much time to night walks. They have been either ignored altogether or a good deal shorter for the past week. The energetic pit will come to my office door, stand and watch me with ears pricked then, when he sees no reaction on my part, plunks himself noisily down beside my feet (and in my way!) and sighs loudly. I don’t dare glance at him...I know I’m getting ‘the look’. I try to make it up to him by letting him have a test taste of whatever Christmas food I am preparing that evening. Okay, I already know that the remedy to less exercise is NOT more food, and I’ve promised him we’ll (both) burn it off in 2012.

-For some reason I’m under the illusion that I’m semi-retired. Maybe it’s the working in pyjamas, or the extra 3 hours per day I have gained by not commuting, or the fact that, if I don’t get much sleep one night, I can do a few hours then snooze for a bit without worrying about making it to the office in time. Maybe it’s all of the above, but whatever it is, I’m just groovin' to the feeling. Bet you can see my SMILE all over your screen!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec,

THEN THERE'S FRED....

Fred with his mom, my daughter Shan.

My passion for couch-coaching the NHL, especially the HABS, is well known. Most friends, and certainly family, are aware that hockey, or occasional other sports, are the limit of my TV watching. I’m not a huge fan of movies, never did soaps, and I gave up on the propaganda programs (news stations) a long time ago. Give me a book any day!

I am, however, partial to anything made by Disney, and certain cartoons. I’ve watched the Lion King more than once, really enjoyed the first Pirates of the Caribbean, and laughed through each of the Shrek movies with pleasure.

I can’t remember why my admiration for Shrek came up in the conversation with my grandson. I do know that he showed up with the whole series yesterday afternoon, together with his new 59 inch TV. He called me to come and see. I regarded the huge screen doubtfully. It looked terribly blurry to me, and I was preparing a “My boy, I think you’ve been had...” speech, when Fred handed me a pair of glasses. At his instigation, I put them on, looked at the screen again, and WOW!!! There was Shrek, prancing around and singing...in 3-D!!! I fell in love!

At Fred’s call, I had left boxes half emptied on the floor upstairs. The thought that there was still a lot of work waiting up there rang a warning bell in my mind. But it was only a very little bell, and the TV volume was quite loud, and that fellow Shrek is so enchanting!!!

I admit it. The real reason I reluctantly returned to my office was the fact that both sofas in my grandson’s apartment were covered with 4 other young men, one of whose glasses Fred had lent to me, and who now sat politely waiting for their return. Darn!

Later on, as he was leaving, Fred asked me if I wanted to watch the hockey game on his TV downstairs. “No, thanks,” I answered. ‘But one day you can show me how that all works, and when you’re not here, I’m going to have myself a Shrek-fest”.

“No problem, “he grinned back. “I’ll show you. But you can come and watch them with me anytime if you want.”

This is the same grandson who, on the rare occasion when he borrows my truck, returns it full of gas...then leaves me a bottle of wine on the table. He’s the same lad who fills my wood baskets each day without being asked; who is always willing to use muscle power when his grandmother needs it (with my recent moves that has happened often enough!), and usually has a friend or two around to help out too.

He is the boy who, oh so gently, lifted his Uncle Bird off the toilet, patiently arranged the pyjama bottoms, and half supported, half-carried him back to bed, all the while joking softly in his deep baritone voice.

He’s slightly macho, is a terror on a dirt bike...and loves puppies and kittens....and his family and friends.

What more can I say? No wonder I’m SMILING!!!! Sharing it with you folks!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

AFTER THE MOVE

I am finally beginning to see the living area floor beneath the multitude of banker boxes piled here, there, and everywhere. Trying to fit a 10 station office into one room requires much planning, shifting...and a short, easily portable step ladder! With desks and filing cabinets and MORE boxes piled high in my garage, there is just enough space for my truck and grandson’s car.

There have been numerous hours of careful filing involved. While packing in the city office, I discovered too many documents that had been left lying around here, there, everywhere in drawers, in out-boxes...anywhere but in the cabinets where they belonged. I was aware that the regular employees had been handing off most of the drudge of filing to the temp workers. Obviously no follow-up had been done to make sure the job was completed. It made me realize that I am NOT a good employer – way too soft and/or too negligent to keep order. I’ll never go that route again. Anyway, there was no time to do it while preparing the move, so I have more than one case labelled “Pending”. It’s a mix and match of paper that I’m slowly getting into the proper folders. The plus side is that I have found things that I’d feared had carelessly gone the way of the shredder, AND, now that it’s in its place, will be available when needed.

Together with that task, there is the regular paying work to be done. Of course, there are the extra 3 hours per day no longer needed for commuting, so I figure that, once things are caught up, I’ll have it made!! What’s more – I don’t even have to change from my pyjamas to do my job! How do you beat that?

In spite of the fiasco of moving, I’ve had the privilege of meeting my dear friend, Kilroy, twice for a quick lunch. Always a pleasure, and too rare. Suzie will be coming up from Detroit this Friday to stay her couple of weeks over the holidays and I am looking forward to seeing her. She’ll be here to help set up the Christmas tree, something I’ve been putting off...telling myself there is no room until I’ve finished with the office stuff. The real truth is that Bird was always present for that activity...and it’s a little rough getting into it this year.

A note to my friends in Blogit – once again I have been lax in writing, and in commenting on your posts, but I do go in each day and read as many as I can. I can’t even promise, at this time, to post regularly myself, although I should, because when I do write, it seems to stabilize me somewhat. It interrupts the constant ‘one-step-at-a-time’ mantra that dominates my mind; a mantra that I can’t wait to figuratively throw out a window!

The snow (yes, we have some) is a blessing – I enjoy it so. Grump and I take our nightly walks just before turning off for the day. It’s wonderful how Mother Nature’s hand can soothe and calm emotions. No matter how the day has gone, by the time we come back into the warm house from our peaceful meandering along the bush road, you can be sure I’m SMILING.

Sending it out to y’all!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec