Tuesday, March 27, 2012

TIME-OUT..... PRECIOUS!

Not much room for me here, is there?

My days, since I’ve been working from home, consist of answering a telephone that never seems to stop ringing, responding to or sending e-mails, multi-tasking in the various computer accounting programs, shuffling documents, conversing (i.e. arguing) with various haughty, language-challenged, CANADIAN civil servants…and opening the door to let the dogs, especially Grump, in and out whenever he indicates it is his pleasure (read often).

But...just after noon, whenever possible, I shut everything down for an hour and the doggies and I follow a specific routine for our ‘time-out’.

Step number one is to retrieve my fluffy, white throw from the bedroom. The throw has many memories attached. It was purchased at my favourite store, Chapters; part of a gift card received from my employees at Christmas three years ago. Because it is so light, and so soft, Bird would use it to ward off the evening chill when we would sit chatting, rocking gently on the gallery swing.

Step number two is to transfer the line, then unplug the telephone. The doggies are already paying attention when they see me with the throw. When I bend to the phone outlet, they both head towards the black leather love seat beside the wood stove. While I program the alarm, they climb up onto that sofa and sit waiting and watching.

Step number three is the game part. “You boys are taking up the entire couch again,” I tell them. “So I’ll have to use this one.” I plop myself down on the beige love seat facing the one they are on. Both of them scramble down, intent on joining me there. I immediately jump up and throw myself on the balck one they have vacated, wrapping myself in the throw. Of the two, the black love seat is slightly longer and larger than the beige one. Still, if there is any way we are going to fit at all, I need to take first position. Besides, I’m head dog.

Step number four is the adjusting of limited space to one human, one 100 pound pit, and one puppy that is growing like a bad weed. Grump takes his usual place behind my bent knees, laying his head, and sometimes a paw, on my legs. Smooch, who caught on very quickly, needs a little help to come up. He stretches out along my stomach, often putting his head on the pillow beside me. There is Spa music playing lightly on the satellite radio, a fire burning if needed, and, after a few movements or pushing here and there to make ourselves comfortable, the snooze is on.

It can last anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour, when the alarm is set to ring. The dogs don’t move until I do, then they will let me struggle to crawl out from under them, yawning while I try to get feeling back into my legs, usually numb from Grump’s weight. The throw goes back into the bedroom, all methods of communication are re-connected, and we start our second shift.

Yes, I do have other couches in my house and a huge bed where I would probably be more at ease for my power nap. And even though I would likely smell better, I know the trade-off wouldn’t be worth it. Snuggling with the doggies is a precious part of my day. It is the one time I fall instantly to sleep, and although it takes a few moments to loosen up muscle cramps caused by the crowding, there is nothing quite like the calm and peaceful feeling that goes with it. Cheap therapy.

Of course it makes me SMILE. Sending it out to you, folks; it’s a very happy SMILE!

Luv from the Bush in QUebec

Saturday, March 24, 2012

THE CALL

When Bird came back to see me, one of the first things he told me was that we had to call Laura. I was so hyped by his being here that I agreed without hesitation – yes, of course we’ll call her tomorrow; it’s the middle of the night right now. It was only later, when I had time to think about anything else but his presence, that I questioned just what his request was all about.

Laura was my mom’s best friend, and I hadn’t talked to her at all in the 7 years since my mom had passed over. She was older than mom, who would be eighty in earth years, so that would bring Laura close to 90. Although I had heard nothing to the contrary, I wasn’t even sure if she was still alive. Life’s busy-ness had effectively got in the way of our keeping in touch.

Life’s busy-ness, or maybe it’s just the ups and downs of my short term memory, also kept me from trying to contact Laura the next day, or the one after that, or any of those following. On one sleepless night I did look her up on the internet. The name was still there, the telephone number still the same, but her address was no longer at the beautiful little house which she, at the time, had been sharing with her wonderful husband for the past 60 or so years. I recognized the new address. It was on a street close to the hospital; an area that catered to senior citizens with apartment complexes or nursing homes.

Of course, the next day, when I could have contacted her, I completely forgot all about it. And so it went on...until this morning, when the first thing I thought of on waking was that I needed to call Laura. Bird must have pinched me during the night.

I called her today. I recognized her voice immediately when she answered her phone, and heavens, she recognized mine! How happy she sounded to hear from me!! She’s as chipper and sweet as she ever was, and we chatted and laughed for at least 20 minutes. She told me that she thinks of my mom at least once a day, wondered how I was doing, and that she had lost her dear husband to colon cancer two years ago. Confined to a wheelchair, she sold the house and has a room in a senior’s home, and she is well treated. Knowing her, and her lovely sense of humour, I expect she’s the darling of the place.

Someone had told her about Bird’s passing, but she showed no surprise when I explained to her about his asking me to call her. I believe her exact words were, “What a lovely thing! “ I expect she is convinced that it was mom’s way of telling her best friend that mom was thinking of her too.

We made plans that I visit her next weekend. When I hung up the phone, I said aloud “There you go, Bird. I finally followed up!” I felt no pat on the back, but I was aware of satisfaction; I don’t think it was just my own.

I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Photo courtesy of Moe123 in Photobucket

A beautiful sunny morning! One thing that marred it was the arrival of my Hydro meter reader person, because I know that very shortly will be found in my mailbox a big invoice, demanding payment with that oh-so-elusive thing called ‘money’. Then again, when I consider the alternative, being without electricity (no pump, no music, no computer, no HOCKEY!!!), I’ll manage to find enough to pay the darned bill. I’ll grumble quietly and remember that I’ve spent money on less important things.

I was watching hockey on Wednesday night when my telephone rang. Who would dare??!!

It was a client, very adamant about me driving two hours or so to the office of his associate the next day. It was important, he stressed. My grandson is home from Alberta on his eight-day leave, so I arranged with him to watch out for the doggies, and headed out early Thursday morning.

The client was right. It was important. I sat and listened to what his associate had to say, studied the papers piled in front of me, and nearly fell off my chair when he divulged the real reason for my being there. He wasn’t just asking my advice; he was offering me a job, to become part of his organisation.

His project is fascinating and way bigger than anything in which I have ever been involved. On my part, it would require many meetings and discussions, studying, and spur-of-the-moment travelling. International travel. All-expense-paid trips to various countries for sessions where I would have to keep my eyes and ears open, and spend time going over and correcting documents.

When I rallied my senses enough to speak (it’s difficult to talk with your mouth hanging open, isn’t it?), I told him I didn’t think my qualifications were up to this task. His answer was that he already had the people with qualifications; what they needed was a bilingual person who could formally read and write, and in whom they could place absolute trust. My client had given me excellent references. In fact, because my client was planning to be part of this, he was very insistent that I be contacted.

Ummmmm...

I felt a twinge – one of those little sparks of excitement that happens when something catches your interest – similar as to how I would react if told that Brad Pitt was at my door. Well, maybe not THAT intense, but you know what I mean.

No doubt about it, if I was younger, and/or my circumstances were different, I wouldn’t even hesitate to accept. Instead I asked for time to think it over. The associate group is meeting on Sunday night, so I have until tomorrow to make my decision. Today will be spent reading over the whole project again, making lists of pros and cons (what about my existing clients, and there’s the doggies, am I up to hours of meetings, and are there really huge snakes in some of those countries?) and damn, I’m surprised I was able to sleep a wink last night!! Actually, I got in a straight eight hours of snooze time – a rare enough occurrence! I guess my brain just turned off, probably in self defence.

What do you think? What would you do? Any input would be appreciated. I’m still trying to convince myself that the biggest reason I’m considering accepting is NOT because my refusal could be caused by my feeling that I am too old....and does that sound as stupid as I think it does?

I’ll get back to those papers, and my list. Hope a few of you stop in to read and will offer an opinion! In the meantime I’m still shaking my head, thinking ‘Fancy that!’ and, yep, I’M SMILING!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

Sunday, March 18, 2012

THE TRIALS OF SMOOCH

Sally

Smooch is having a bad weekend!

His being constantly underfoot finally ended as only it could; with me falling over him. I went one better – I fell ON him. Grump was somehow muddled in with us, my armload of folded towels was scattered all over the floor, and it frightened the wits out of me when Smooch just lay there...not moving...eyes glazing over. I panicked – thinking my weight had broken his back.

Still on my hands and knees, I leaned over him, not daring to move him, calling his name, my heart in my throat. Fortunately, before I totally lost it, he lifted his head and laboured to stand up. Maybe it was just his pain that had made him react that way.

He was limping badly, but bounced back as puppies do, especially pits – they are a hardy breed. By the end of the night he was playing with Grump, favouring his leg only slightly, and this lady’s heartbeat slowed down to normal.

This morning, Smooch was out on the gallery with Grump, romping in the sunshine. I saw Louka arrive; she visits on a regular basis. Then Sally, the neighbour’s Rottweiler, showed up too. The puppy doesn’t go down the stairs yet, but both the bigger dogs came up. They have met before, and Louka and Smooch play together often. This time though, I heard Smooch yelp in pain. I roared ‘Hey!!’ and went rushing to the door. Sally, tail lowered in guilt, took off immediately. There was a bloody slash under Smooch’s left eye; he’s going to need a couple of stitches.

Smooch, wanting to go play with Grump and Louka




I reluctantly pulled out my wooden gates and blocked both entrances to the gallery stairs. I was hoping to avoid the necessity – it’s a pain each time having to go out and open them so Grump can get down, but it will stay that way until the dogs get used to each other. Hopefully Smooch will have no further unhappy incidents this beautiful, sunny day!

Windows are open, music is playing, and I’ve pulled out the mop and the rags. The spring cleaning bug showed up this morning, so the pile of tax forms have been stacked on one side, and I’ll get to rubbing and scrubbing before that bug disappears. It doesn’t tend to stick around here long.

Sending you all a huge, green St-Patrick’s Day SMILE!!

LUV FROM THE BUSH IN QUEBEC

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

KNOCK THREE TIMES..........


My youngest grandson, Tao, has been sick for the past three weeks; a cold, then ear infection, bronchitis, then an array of antibiotics to which he is allergic...one thing after another. Poor baby – there wasn’t a lot of sleep for him, nor for the parents, who are working opposing shifts.

My son was on 12 hour duty Sunday night. While the maternal grandmother stayed with the two older boys, a raspberry coloured and swollen Tao, a totally exhausted Mummy, with me as driver, did the route between two hospitals....again. Lines were long, and the fretful baby finally fell to sleep in the truck, so we decided to try to wait it out until the walk-in clinic opened the next day. I left to check on the doggies, planning to return in an hour or so. My DIL called to tell me Jo (my son) was on his way home, but would have to go to back to work for 4 AM; I could snooze a couple of hours before replacing him.

When I crawled into bed it was 11:30 PM. Morpheus was waiting with open arms. I set the alarm for 3 AM. Within minutes I was out like a light.

Something woke me. The clock on the bedside table is placed for easy viewing, and was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. It showed 24:40.

What?! Was that knocking...or was I dreaming?

I was awake now, and I heard another three light knocks on my closed bedroom door.

Immediately came to fuzzy mind that it was my ex. Although it hasn’t happened lately, he had a habit of showing up, buzzed and dangerous, trying to enter the house. The restraining order I had requested only lasted the year; it was no longer in force, and he knew it.

“Who’s there?” The weight of sleep was so heavy; it was as if I had a mouthful of marbles. The door pushed opened a crack and I heard a voice, but I couldn’t tell what was said, or to whom it belonged.

Heart hammering, part anger, part fear, I threw off my blankets, stumbled to the door and yanked it open...to nothing.

Hesitating just a second, I demanded again “who’s there?”, and stepped into the hall. My heart took a giant leap. Someone was standing just beside the door, leaning back against the wall. It was dark – I could only see his outline, but I knew it wasn’t my ex.

“It’s me”, the shadow said.

So confused with sleep, still angry that I had been wakened, but ...did I recognize that voice?

“Bird?”

“Yeh, it’s me”

“WTF are you doing waking me up at this time?!” I headed back into my room, b*tching loudly about having my sleep disturbed... then realization swamped me.

Bird!!!!!!!!

I whipped around back into the hall. He hadn’t moved.

“Is it really you?” I couldn’t breathe around the lump in my throat.

God, yes..... Please!

I sensed rather than saw his nod. I threw myself into his arms, and we hugged. I wasn’t hugging air...it was solid, and he was hugging back. It was warm, and it was real. We stood hanging onto each other tightly for long precious minutes.

There are no words to describe the joy.


Arms still around each other, I dragged him to the kitchen-sitting room. I wanted to see him. We sat one in front of the other on the love seats, his and mine, and I listened to what he had to say, still in awe that he was here with me. At one point he apologized for having frightened me.

“I didn’t want to be standing there when you opened the door,” he said. “I don’t know what I look like. What do I look like?”

“Good!” I replied. “You look really good, Bird!” It was true. I studied him attentively. He was dressed in a winter jacket, jeans and boots. He was the same size as before the cancer had ravaged his body. Although his skin was as white as milk, and his eyes had slight dark hollows underneath, he looked better than I had seen him in years.

“Can you see yourself if you look in a mirror?” I asked. “We can go to the hallway where the big mirrors are. Or stand up and look at your reflection in the window. You’ll see...you look really good!”

He was halfway standing, turning to look in the window, when the telephone rang.

My son tells me that I answered on the first ring. It was 1:20 AM when he called to tell me that he had been summoned back to the shop. A machine had malfunctioned, work was stopped, and he needed to repair it as soon as possible so that the employees could continue. I had to replace him earlier than planned.

I hung up the phone and got out of bed. I drank my coffee sitting on the loveseat where Bird had sat...remembering...reliving it over and over again, so terribly, terribly grateful, feeling how warm he was when we had hugged...

A dream?

Of course. Except....when I went into my bedroom, the door into the hall was open.

I have closed that door automatically every night since the arrival of Smooch. I don’t want him messing on my hardwood floors.

What’s more – my room smelled like Bird...his illegal Indian cigarettes. Those cigarettes have not been smoked in my house since last October.

Ecstatic is what I am. Walking on Cloud 9!!! And so SMILEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m sharing with you. And whether you think I’m off my rocker or not, the SMILE is sincere and so, SO HAPPY!!! I hope you grab it when it’s passing.

(What if I’m right???)

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.