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

GLITCHES...AND SNOW!!!

Photo courtesy of Henleysroom in Photobucket

Snow!!!

And traffic!!!

Not that I am venturing out very far, but my technician is attempting to reach the city. He is to disconnect all the computers, the telephone system, and the alarm; tomorrow he will reinstall it here at home. He doesn’t have keys to the office door, but someone was supposed to meet him there this morning at 10 AM – a young man who uses our conference room to train his new employees. I guess the young man either got out of bed late or is stuck in traffic too, and is not answering his phone. On the other hand, the technician has called me at least 4 times. He has more appointments and limited time to do my job….and he’s beginning to panic! It would be so nice if something could go smoothly for once, but it looks like the ‘once’ is not going to be today.

It was wonderful to spend time with my son last night. On the drive into the city he regaled me with the latest antics of our 3 rug rats, brought me up to date on his lady’s operation (they’ve found ‘another ‘hernia….or did they miss it when operating??), and we discussed his having sold his business to become an employee (he’s quite happy with his decision, and that’s what counts!). He got busy with the drill, I tackled the boxes, and we worked together with rock music as backup. Jo is lead singer in a group with one CD to his credit, and his voice blended perfectly as he sang along. I wasn’t about to spoil it by making my ‘joyful noise’, so I compensated by executing a few dance steps around the desks. With empty cartons as my partners, there were no toes to step on, tee-hee!

I have a full day ahead of me – the garage to prepare for the invasion of office furniture, making room in my home office for loads of files and paper, letters to send out to clients and suppliers about the change of address, etc., etc.

Even with my technician’s panic, or the long list of ‘things to do’; and in spite of very little sleep under my belt, not much can spoil my mood this morning. My reaction to the first snow is like that of a little child – total exhilaration!!!

Am I SMILING?? You bet! The grin is from ear to ear! I’m anticipating sneaking outside for a short romp with Grump in that lovely white stuff before the day is done!

You know, of course, that the SMILE is winging its way through cyberspace…it will be knocking on your door any minute now!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS...

My 3 rug rats in a forvorite place - M'mère's jaccuzi!

While I was at the office yesterday, the supplier dumped a load of firewood in front of my garage. The delivery is late. It had been scheduled at least two months ago, so that I would have plenty of time to bring it in before winter.

The Habs-Boston game was already playing; the temptation was too much, and I watched the first period before checking the weather forecast. Just as I feared, there is a bright, red warning indicated for our area. My demons are to return in full force by tomorrow, trailing loads of snow and freezing rain….and all that wood sitting outside!

I’m in the midst of packing in the city. Last weekend my garage, where the office equipment will be stored, was emptied of most of Bird’s house belongings. What remains needs to be shifted to make room for both the wood and the truckload of office furniture and boxes .There are two financial statements to prepare and tax remittances for three companies to be done – and all this by the end of the month! I was feeling slightly overwhelmed.

Then…grandson to the rescue! Fred came upstairs, doing his daily trek to fill my fire baskets, and told me that he is not working today, so will take care of bringing in the wood. He started the ball rolling. I grabbed the telephone and contacted my ex’s mom. She agreed to come by Thursday night and pick up the number of his metal tool boxes that have been taking up space for the past year. When my youngest son finishes work tonight, he and I will drive into the city. While he is manipulating the drill to remove wall hangings, counters, stalls and whatever furniture needs to be disassembled, I’ll continue packing documents. I counted on my fingers. There should be just enough time to complete most of the tasks…with a little help from my friends. (I love that Beatles tune!)

I’m kidding myself. There will NOT be enough time to get it done to my satisfaction…but the most important things will be handled. Time for a change of attitude!

There is wood to keep me warm; the daily 4 hour commute to work is nearly over; there is a greedy and complicated government forcing clients to keep me in a job, so I have a roof over my head. I don’t even need to get into the health, family, and friends thing to realize that I’m extremely lucky.

Speaking of family – I’m putting everything on hold to babysit my 3 little rug rats this Saturday. There’s the real priority!! I’m looking forward to all the giggles and SMILES! Sharing them with you!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

INTRODUCING...SMILES!

My sister in law, the sweet Lori. What a smile!

The last foster home was a dilly! When we had first arrived there, the lady told me that God had not seen fit to bless her with a child; both Bird and I were soon to find out why. After a few months of her tyranny, we started fighting back – as well as children can – and the problems escalated. When the police became involved, my mom made a momentous decision. She would dump the one boyfriend she had been seeing for years and, I fear, loved deeply, and marry the second. The former wanted nothing to do with her children; the latter would welcome us with open arms.

He and mom showed up one day and took us out of there. The man (we soon were calling him Dad) made us an ‘insta-family’, and within a couple of years, even added a baby brother. We nicknamed the little dude Pody.

The marriage couldn’t work, of course, but strong bonds were created between Dad and us. Even after they split and he left, taking our baby half-brother with him, we kept in touch. And the reason I’m telling you all this is to introduce my little brother, Pody, who has 3 of his own kids now, and his sweet wife, Lori. They live in New Brunswick.

Lori is a pearl from Newfoundland. She is one of the first persons I read on Facebook each day just because she is so upbeat and positive…and funny and, of course, SMILEY!! I think her post this morning on FB can explain it better than I ever could. Here you go:

Before leaving work Friday afternoon, I went in to clean the washrooms. A lady with a little boy walked over as I was going in and asked if we had a change station. I said yes and that I would sanitize it for her first. As I was cleaning she told me that her son hates getting changed on these stations. The little fella was about 14 months old. When I finished she brought him in and I started cleaning the mirror and sink. Then I heard him. The poor little guy started screaming at the top of his lungs. Thinking customers outside may be able to hear him, I started singing hoping it would calm him down.......'The itsy bitsy spider ran up the water spout......Down came the rain and washed the spider out'........The screaming stopped, so I kept singing. I was finishing up with 'Jingle Bells' when they came out of the stall. Mother and son were all smiles. She told me that she's never gotten service like that at a Tim Hortons before.....For those of you who have never heard me sing, I wasn't sure if that was a 'compliment' or a 'complaint'.....She asked if I sang as a hobby (compliment?!?!). We laughed as I told her it must be the bathroom acoustics.

Considering we are short-staffed and I was prepared for the worst this week, my whole week went really well......Lots of happy shiny people, hugs, coffee......and even though the week ended on a 'note' that was a little 'off-key', there were lots of smiles too! :o)

I’m in a rush today. Thanks to Lori, I still had time to post something cheerful!!

Sending my SMILE out to you with hers, folks, and wishing you a great day with many nice surprises - your first being double SMILES here!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

GO, GRANNY, GO!!

Photo courtesy of Photobucket

“We’re going on the trip. I called Yo and booked it.” My daughter stirred milk into her café crema as she spoke. She had stopped by to cut her son’s (my tenant grandson) hair, and came upstairs to chat for a few minutes before leaving.

“So you managed to book that week off? Good!” I answered, as I joined her at the table. I knew she had been worried that changing the dates for her scheduled vacation would be a problem. When her brother had told us about the plans for holidays with his 6 closest friends, she had been avid to join them. These boys, who had practically been raised in our home, were like extended brothers to her. They are all going to turn 40 next year, and Bow had explained how, with much juggling of dates for their own and their wives’ availability, they had finally hit upon a week where the 12 of them could go down south and celebrate together. It promises to be a hilarious time!

Yoshiko, my son’s wife, now works for a travel agency, and was responsible for the arrangements. She had assured Shan that her name could be added to the group if she acted quickly. Vacationing with that gang could be nothing but fun; I was happy everything had worked out. I smiled as I pulled back my chair. It was a good thing I was already sitting when Shan spoke again.

“Did you hear me, Mom? I said WE are going. Double occupancy is only a couple of dollars more than single, and I’ve booked your name too. You’re coming with us. So get your butt in gear – you have 5 months to prepare.” The Cheshire cat had nothing on my daughter’s grin as she watched for my reaction. I’m sure the expression on my face did not disappoint her.

“Me??” I squeaked. “But….but …are you sure the boys will want this? They’re so much younger…and going down there to celebrate….”

“Already taken care of.” She smiled smugly. “And it’s YOU, Mom. You’ve always been invited to any of their parties, but Bow called around to make sure. They think it’s great!”

I’m still reeling.

If what my kids want is to take my mind of the difficult events of the last 3 years, I’d have to admit that they’ve succeeded. I went from total surprise, to denial, to worry, then to…wow – this is awesome – excitement! It has been so long since I’ve been on a trip to the ocean that I’m scrambling to remember what I’ll need to pack…except we’ll forget the bikini.

I don’t have to tell you that there’s a little dance in my step now, and even though I completely forgot to ask where we are going, I’m SMILING!!

Sending it out to y’all!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A FRAUD?

The sun setting over my mountain
It was a wicked day yesterday, for more than one reason.

Rush hour was horrendous. Fortunately, I had already covered that area on the auto route BEFORE the truck dumped his load of bricks all over the road, resulting in more than one flat tire for the traffic behind and beside it. My drive took two hours; I can imagine how long it was before those poor folks made it home.

Because of what has transpired concerning Line, the atmosphere in the office was strained, with each of us trying to pretend that things can go on as before until her things are moved out. That is impossible for the moment, of course. I have no doubt that we’ll get past it and preserve our friendship – but it will take time, and much effort required on both our parts.

Reading all your comments about how I handled this…I’m feeling grateful, but also a bit of a fraud. I do have a forgiving nature, and I find that harboring anger and ill-will drains energy. Maybe I’m too soft hearted to become a business mogul, but I am not that easy of a push-over either.

There was a method to my madness when I asked the client to advise his CA that Line would be handling his account in the future. I knew the CA wasn’t happy with her. He had called to complain about her work just before she left for vacation. In defense of my employee, I had explained to the CA how she had been handling the business on her own during my long absence; she was likely overwhelmed with work, etc. He didn’t sound convinced.

It was a throw of dice. If the client even mentions the change, maybe the CA will tell him of his skepticism….or maybe I defended her too well, and he’ll say nothing. I feel that I’ve pushed back a little – I didn’t take it completely lying down. Whatever happens now is in hands larger than mine; there will be a reason behind it, and it will be for the best in the long run.

So, you see, I turned the other cheek, but not with as much grace as implied by all those wonderful comments I received.

I’ve been working most of the night attempting to make a dent in the heaps of papers piled on my desk. UGH! The eternal catch-up!!! Right now I’m going to grab a couple of hour’s shut-eye. The phone will start ringing around 9 AM, and I need to be lucid by then.

Off I go, but not without thanking you all again, AND sending you wishes for a great day There’s a huge SMILE with that; hope it makes things a little brighter!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

A 'TAPS' inspired photo of sunrise at home
Not wanting to waste time commuting, I worked from home yesterday. However, Line & I needed to talk before I initiated the procedures that would move the office, so I sent her a text inquiring if she was in the city. Yes, she replied, and what did I think about her grabbing a bottle of wine then coming to spend the night with me in the bush? Great minds think alike, I texted. Maybe… but I was soon to discover that it’s not necessarily for the same reasons.

I am still somewhat perturbed.

Before my brother fell so ill, Line had decided to strike out on her own. With my laying her off, she would be eligible to collect unemployment insurance while finding clients and reactivating her former company. We would share the expenses of the smaller office, upkeep of the accounting programs, etc., and back each other up during the high season and our vacations.

When I returned to work after Bird’s passing, her plans had changed. She was selling her condo in the city and moving in with her friend, who does not reside in the area. She was leaving for a 10 day vacation within the week, and was more than fed up with accounting and the business. Although stunned, I could completely empathize with her. She had held the fort alone for so long. Besides, she saw me every day for the last 3 years, and has lived through my turbulent separation, my partner’s fiasco, losing Bud, now my brother…it has not been easy. She couldn’t help but share the heavy emotions I was feeling. In fact, it must have been extremely wearing for a person who thrives on positive influences.

It was her decision to drop our plans that motivated me to bring my office back home.

Line is not a drinker, and after two small glasses of wine she threw me the bomb. One of my best clients, the one she had offered to cover on her return from vacation last week (I had gratefully agreed; I was attempting to complete a complicated file for another customer) declared that he was going to change his account over to her new company. What???? This is a steady weekly account, one that I had set up and was serving before I hired Line. She has been covering it for three years…as my employee! I replaced her while she was on vacation, and had just warned him that she was relocating, and that it would be either me or someone else coming in the future. Now it seemed he had not known she was opening her own business and taking clients in this area, he did not want to break up his ‘team’, her rates were lower than mine...and, oh my….I don’t think I tasted the rest of the wine in my glass…it was gulped so quickly!

As she talked, my mind raced back to a few months ago, when she had first decided to branch out and was looking for clients. Another of my long standing accounts, one of the group she took care of and who, when warned nothing more would be done until he paid some of the sizable and long delinquent amount owed to my business, had apparently asked her if he could not switch over and work directly with her. I had blown a fuse when she approached me with this. What she was suggesting was a way he could ignore paying me and have his work done by someone familiar with his books…and paid by me. She reminded me that I had said I’d just as soon get rid of that client. True, I had said that…but it wasn’t happening until I was paid up!

I had told Bird about it during one of our chats. “Watch it!” he advised me. “She’s trying to steal your clients while you are out of action. When the cat’s away…” I denied it vigorously. This girl, who has been my close friend for years, had acted on the assumption that I wanted to get rid of the client. Even now I didn’t want to admit that Bird had possibly been right.

Life is all about choices. After Line went groggily to bed, I sat and thought about it all. The deception seemed enormous, but what mattered most to me? Keeping the client , or accepting that a dear friend, who had covered for me more than once; who, for such a long time, had helped me shoulder the burden of dealing with a hectic business while struggling with traumatic personal issues, was in a financial panic and was acting completely out of character? Which one of us needed help?

Before Line left this morning, I told her that I would call and discuss the issue with the client, then get back to her. Not wanting the client to be subject to a conflict of interest, I told him to feel at ease if he decided to switch to Line. The only thing I asked is that he advise his CA, who has referred other customers to me too. Being an honest businessman himself, he was ill at ease with the situation. His version of what had happened is not quite the same as hers.

I don’t care. I have decided to keep my friend. I can find other clients. There is no money equal to what this girl has given me over the years. I doubt it can ever be the same between us but, what the heck! Payback sometimes takes weird shapes.

Making a decision and being okay with it – it just makes you SMILE!!

I’m way behind, so sending out a gazillion of them over cyberspace to y’all!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE BOXES

Tao, my youngest rug rat

I spent the day yesterday going through boxes, and boxes, and boxes which have been piled in my garage since Bird moved in with me this summer. Today his lady friend will stop by to pick up what he wanted her to have. I have not been able to reach the young man who was to receive Bird’s power tools, so those will be set aside until he shows up.

My brother, like the rest of our family, was a packrat, strongly believing that even if you haven’t used something for years, you will need it the day after you get rid of it. When my daughter and I packed for him, we were warned not to throw away anything! We heeded his wishes, for the most part, but I didn’t even bother to open those boxes which my daughter had labeled ‘Bird’s Junk’. Those, together with his clothes, will be picked up by a truck from the organization catering to the homeless. I worked for that organization for 4 years, and know it will be well distributed.

I wasn’t looking forward to the task, but it actually wasn’t so bad. Yes, more than once I had to swallow hard to keep going, but just as often I laughed, recalling events surrounding a certain article, or shaking my head as I wondered why on earth he would have kept this or that. In his papers I found every card I had ever given him for his birthday or for Christmas over the years. I wasn’t surprised; I put them away where I keep all those he has given me.

I’m pretty adept at controlling my feelings when I’m awake and alert. Our defenses crumble when we sleep. Hauling all those boxes around made me tired enough to snooze for a couple of hours last night, and I don’t remember what I dreamed to wake me up in such a mood. I just knew, when my eyes opened, there would be no use of my trying to stay in bed. Even working, my usual escape, was not going to help. On Friday night my daughter-in-law had sent me a trilogy written by Nora Roberts, so I picked up the first book and lost myself in her story. I should send that writer a thank you card.

I am tired this morning, but it’s a brand new day. The sun is shining, and my daughter is on her way here now; she’ll be staunch moral support as I watch the first of Bird’s belonging be taken away. Maybe this evening I’ll drop in on my daughter-in-law to thank her for the books, and to immerse myself in cuddles from my three young grandbabies. I’ve yet to find something to better soothe emotions than the kisses and hugs from those beautiful rug rats. I know, when I leave to come home, that I’ll be SMILING.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

HEALING

Bird's moon, from his camera

I can’t listen to his music yet….but I will…eventually. It was our home base, his music. He burned CD after CD of my favorite tunes – older ones I had forgotten – until I heard them again. I would know all the words – I could sing along, or, as he called it, make a joyful noise, while listening. A lot of them were to keep me from dozing off while driving home at the end of a long day at work.

Some nights are hard to get through. Sleep comes for an hour or two, and then I wake. I shut down any thoughts by getting up and doing something…anything…until I’m tired enough to fall into an immediate slumber again. Fortunately that is the period where my internet stream is the fastest, so I am able to work by remote on my city computer server; the hours are not lost, but crowded with numbers instead of feelings.

It’s going to take time, and tears that I am not yet ready to cry. Most of you have dealt with this; you know what I’m saying – how I feel. And we all know that life does go on.

This weekend I have to empty his belongings from the garage. I need the space for office furniture. When I returned to work, Line warned me that she was leaving within a few days. It has all been too much for her. I considered hiring someone else, then decided that no – I’ve had enough of losing 4 hours a day commuting to the city. I’m bringing my office home. Most communication with clients is done by telephone, fax or internet anyway. For those I need to meet on occasion, I’ll just drive into the city and do so. Everything has to be moved by the end of the month, and it involves a lot of work. It’s a blessing in disguise. I’m too damned busy to get mired in self pity.

I missed writing. I have not been in the right mind set to put words on paper. I have been reading though, slipping in and out of Blogit, following Kilroy’s blog, checking Facebook and my e-mails now and then. Comments and responses were put off for a bit, and I apologize. I did receive and deeply appreciated all your messages, and believe that I have answered most of them by now.

Grump and I have resumed our nightly excursions on the country roads, usually accompanied by the beautiful Louka. This week the weather was so nice, and we were treated to the spectacular glow that is particular to a full autumn moon. I stood on the top of hill, listening to the silence of the bush. It was disturbed only by the sound of obscured doggies sniffing around in piles of dry leaves.

As I stood gazing at this awesome scene, Nature’s fingers reached in and touched my soul. A rush of love filled me, and I knew my brother was near. I acknowledged his presence with a warm embrace, then blew him a kiss. I felt the gentle stroke of healing begin, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE SIGN FROM BIRD

Bird

My son, Bow, sat at his uncle Bird’s side and promised him that he would look out for me. Bird tightly squeezed his nephew’s hand – he had heard and understood. Even more important, he trusted that Bow would do as promised. Within a few minutes of my son’s departure, on October 14th, at 2:05 AM, my brother sighed twice then crossed over. I realized that Bird really meant what he had told the nurses and his friends. In spite of my repeated assurances that I would be okay, he had been hanging on because he was worried about leaving me alone here.

I waited beside him for the six hours I wanted before the medical team came to remove the empty body which had housed such a beautiful soul. I followed them to the hospital to numbly sign the necessary documents, then returned home. My children and older grandchildren began to arrive. I spent the rest of the day surrounded by love and support from those who cared deeply not only for me, but for the uncle they could never forget.

I refused my son’s offer to stay over with me. All I needed was sleep, I assured him. After bestowing many hugs and kisses, my family prepared to leave. As I was walking my Japanese daughter-in-law, Yoshiko, to the door, we paused a moment beside my brother’s bedroom. Both the lights and television he had kept on for 24 hours a day were turned off. The room was dark and silent but, as Yoshiko noted, it didn’t ‘feel empty’. I hugged her gratefully – so I wasn’t the only one who sensed that!

During one of our many discussions, Bird had expressed skepticism in my beliefs of ‘the next step’. We decided that, if it was at all possible, he would give me a sign that he had arrived and was well. I had total faith that I would receive his sign; I just didn’t expect it so quickly.

Something caught my eye as I passed Bird’s bedroom door on my return to the kitchen. His blue, pencil flashlight, still on the portable table beside his bed, was glowing. I slowly entered the room and picked it up. I wasn’t seeing things – it was turned on. The room had been in total darkness when Yoshiko and I had paused beside it just a few moments ago.

Still holding the flashlight, I sank to the edge of his bed and reached out to rub my hand over the blankets. They felt warm under my palm.
“This is your sign, Bird?” I asked aloud. There was no verbal reply, but the loving embrace floating around me was so sweet that it brought tears to my eyes…and joy to my aching heart.

Trust Bird to find a way. He was telling me that all was well and, because I couldn’t help but add a human element, he was also conceding that, this time, his sister was right.

I know he was watching as I blew him a kiss, and I’m sure he answered my SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

NOT SO GOOD...

The Bird, with Fran
When I got my e-mail from Kilroy, asking to please take time to let him know what was going on, I realized how long it has been since I had last posted.

The past few days have been rough. A week ago Friday, I woke to sounds of Bird wandering around in the house. The noises of his slippers scuffing over the wood floors didn’t ring right – he wasn’t just going to the bathroom, but moving back and forth every which way. He was extremely agitated, and very confused. There were bags haphazardly packed and placed by the door of his bedroom. We needed to get out of here, he told me wildly. He had been looking for me, because he didn’t want to leave without me. It took a few minutes to calm him down, to explain that we were in our house, to remind him that he had moved in with me during the summer. He finally ‘came back to earth’, remembered where he was, and shook his head sadly over his antics. It was only the beginning.

We had an appointment with his doctor on Thursday, but the Bird had many such lapses before then. He was sleeping even less, or shorter periods. I had to keep my eye on him constantly when he was awake, because he would slip in and out of the present at any time. He has no recall at all of having seen the doctor, but is aware that the cancer is spreading. The doctor prescribed medication to reduce the swelling in his brain, and told me no further appointments are necessary – to call him if we needed something. Bird refused to take their test drug Tarceva, and it is as if the specialists have washed their hands of him now.

Thanksgiving Friday was a nightmare. Bird was lost, and no longer able to function. He alternated between being dozy one moment and off the wall the next. He wasn’t able to swallow, or ignored, his pain medication. This, of course, made him hyper. There was no sleep for either of us. By the time the home care nurse showed up on Saturday morning (a plus because they usually only came once a week on Mondays) it was apparent that something needed to be done, and quickly. An ambulance was called, and we went to the village hospital so that the doctor there could install butterflies on his arms and leg and prescribe liquid injections. We got back home around 6 PM Saturday night, again by ambulance.

Bird helped to care for our Mom, and remembers that the injections were the last step before she passed over. I can only guess that this is why he panicked when he saw me with the syringe in hand. He refused to take it. The patch also prescribed was in place, but had not sufficient time to take effect, so he was suffering. Even so, it took most of the night, and hours of pain, before he finally allowed me to use the butterfly for the medicine. He’s still convinced that it will hurry his end, so will take it only when his endurance gives out. The result is that he is getting just enough to keep him slightly ‘high’; sleep is still of short duration.

However…today is Thanksgiving Day….and the Bird has rallied. He’s such a tough Bird!!! Although he has eaten nothing except a couple of popsicles since Friday, he is still drinking plenty of thickened water, and both the medication to alleviate the swelling in his brain and the patch for his pain seem to be working. A relaxing sponge bath and a visit with Fran this afternoon set the tone.

Earlier this evening we sat together and chatted. He got a good laugh from the stories about his recent forays into the Twilight Zone, and promised to wake me and to take the injection if he feels pain…BEFORE he wanders around!! I tucked him into a layer of pillows with his favorite blue duvet, surrounding him with that fresh-washed smell of a blanket dried outside on the clothesline. When I bent over to kiss his forehead goodnight, he was SMILING.

Sending warm SMILES out to you also, folks, with our hopes that you enjoyed a memorable CANADIAN THANKSGIVING!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING? NOT!!

Photo courtesy of amzeyden in Photobucket

The terrified scream came from behind me. I whipped around, my heart in my throat. It was a young girl standing some distance away, her arms waving madly. She was staring off to her right as she screamed...and screamed again! I glanced quickly in the direction of her gaze, but couldn’t see any menace there. I started toward her – I was not without apprehension, but I was also wondering if I could help. At that very second she turned and ran blindly through the trees, her acute cries still piercing my brain. I pelted after her - fear coursing in my veins now too – and I was thinking if she would only SHUT UP, whatever was giving chase would have less chance of finding her. Of finding both of us, damnit!!

I woke with a start. Ah - it was a dream… but I could still hear her screams…for real! I groggily realized that they were coming through the baby monitor on my nightstand. It must be some horror movie playing on Bird’s TV in his room. I fumbled to turn the sound lower, but the TV volume was so loud that it was still audible even without the monitor. And she was STILL shrieking! Geez!

Bird was sleeping soundly when I stumbled into his room. The remote was lying on the bed under his hand, and I supposed he had inadvertently pressed the button to put the speakers on high. I gently disengaged the culprit and finally rid myself of that terrible racket, which had never let up. I looked at the screen. Yep, she was by a door, her face contorted in a bad rendition of terror….a grade D actress in a Grade D movie. I was really going to have a chat with my brother the next day. If his 24 hour TV was going to invade my dreams, the least he could do would be to find a movie starring Brad Pitt!

My brother and I have always enjoyed spending time with each other, and that’s a good thing. But…there can be too much of a good thing. We are both very independent souls, and each has lived alone for a long time – him even longer than me. Put two people like us in the same house on a continual basis and, no matter how many rooms are available, sparks are apt to fly now and then. They are very tiny sparks, and of short duration. We care too much for each other to ever be mean, or hold a grudge. However, we are not past taking a little light revenge now and then.

I guess I sounded somewhat b*tchy when I broached the subject the next day. I may have, in fact, referred to his beloved television as ‘that idiot box’. He listened as I ranted, then nodded, adding that his dreams were sometimes invaded too. When he smiled, I should have known it was an evil smile.

“Well,” he drawled. “I was thinking of watching the Porn Channel, but remembered the monitor was in your room….” He waited.

I sat deliberating my choices. Would I really rather dream I was participating in a “Debbie does Dallas” scenario? The bugger had won again!

“Well, at least put the remote on your table before you fall to sleep,” I countered. Then an idea. “Or the batteries may wear out…suddenly!”

“I know – and I keep some new ones stashed in my room just in case.” Somehow I knew he was telling the truth. He was smirking. I glared back at him. At a loss for words, I reverted to the standard sibling threat.

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” I declared.

He was right on cue. “Not if I kick yours first!”

And we smiled.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE BIONIC MAN

A happy Bird with his daughter, Jo

Not so long ago I blogged about the ‘You can’t swear! You’ve got hair!’ episode, which is now one of our inside family jokes. I think every family has them. They occur spontaneously and, at later opportune moments, will be repeated with a sly wink and knowing laugh. A couple of weeks ago, I unwillingly contributed to our family repertoire, and I’m quite sure that I’m going to be teased about this one for years to come.

Refusing the traditional treatment for my brother’s cancer meant finding another way to improve our situation. There is no question of just sitting around and letting the disease take its course. After hours of research, we decided that organic food and homeopathic measures could only help. A juicer was purchased, a Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine consulted, and this lady began reading labels and being very careful about cooking and serving only certified organic products. There is no problem finding fruits and vegetables, but meat (non-boosted) is not so easily accessible in the grocery stores in our small town. My daughter had mentioned buying a batch of grain fed, free range chickens some months ago, so I decided to ask her if I could purchase one or two from her until I could get to the specialized city markets.

I alternate between the English and French languages on a daily or even hourly basis – speaking it, reading it, writing it. Now and then I unconsciously throw a French word or expression into an English conversation, or vice versa. Sometimes I have to stop and think before using a certain word, because I am no longer sure to which language it belongs. The other day, while talking to my daughter, I forgot to pay attention. I was speaking French, where the correct term is biologique, but thinking the English organic. My tongue twisted, and I didn’t even realize what I had said until my daughter started to giggle and answered “Sure, Mom! I’ll sell you a couple of my bionic chickens!”

I guess I don’t have to tell you what happened when my smart-mouthed brother heard about my blunder. After his initial deep rendition of “Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology…we can make him better than he was before…..” (for those who don’t recognize it, it was the introduction to the old Six-Million Dollar Man television series), he has shown no mercy. Each family member, every visiting friend, and even the nurses from the CLSC have been told not to worry about his health - that his sister is now feeding him bionic meals. I’m sure it’s not-so-subtle payback for my refusing to let him eat junk food, or the beet-carrot-apple mixture I force him to drink first thing in the morning! He never did like beets.

I admit I can go a bit overboard when I latch onto an idea. However, my brother’s daughter, who flew in to spend the weekend with us, much to his delight, and my own kids, and his lady friend…even the nurses, all agree. His condition, both physically and mentally, seems to have greatly improved within the past three weeks….the same length of time he has been eating only bionic…uh…I mean, organic.

In spite of his being a smart-ass, I’ll still endeavor to help him. Tomorrow …and each day after that… I will faithfully prepare a glass of organic beet-carrot-apple juice and serve it to him first thing in the morning, now even before his coffee, which he loves. I will dutifully ignore his grimace when I set it down on his table, and pretend that I do not know that he never did like beets. And as I turn my back to walk out of his room, yep! I’ll be SMILING!!

Sending those SMILES out to y’all, and hoping you’ll spread them around!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A JOYFUL NOISE

Ah – the interwoven yellow and orange and red of a crackling wood fire – the return of the season where we sit and bask in its cozy warmth. The chimney sweep paid us his yearly visit yesterday (actually, it should read I paid HIM for his yearly visit yesterday!). He was no longer done and gone than Grump and I hauled wood upstairs. Well, Grump brings a couple of pieces of cedar kindling; I carry the logs.

The Bird was lying in his bed, pretending to be focused on the TV. Once again his friend had not shown up as promised, and she wasn’t answering her phone when he called. I knew it was bugging him; he feels extremely vulnerable when she does that. Anyone in his position would feel the same.

I strolled into his room with my announcement.

“It’s time you made yourself useful,” I said. His gaze switched to me, his surprise indicated by raised eyebrows. I elaborated. “You know that box of CDs I mentioned the other day?” He remembered. He began the slow preparations necessary to get up and about.

Talk to a musician about music, and it’s pretty much a given that his attention will be all yours. Soon there we were – the Bird and Grump and me – installed comfortably on the sofas beside the fire, fresh coffee in hand…and that huge box of jumbled CDs between us.

This box has been bugging me for ages. Every loose CD found lying around in any part of the house, the garage, the office, or the cars had been gathered up and shoved into it with the notion that I would find time to organize them somehow. Many were mixed copies burned and received from friends, some from my brother himself, with no labeling information. Others were just loose, or had been hurriedly stuck into whichever jacket that was on hand, not necessarily the right one…and the box was one of two! It was a mess!

Bird is a whiz when it comes to music. More times than not he can rhyme off not only the tune, but also the name of the artist doing it. The whole family on my father’s side is musically inclined; they can play various instruments and have sweet singing voices. I believe I am the only sibling who wasn’t included in that bank of talent; my calling in that domain is limited to loving nearly all types, and knowing what I like to hear.

Time passed as we worked together – Bird naming the tune and artist while I made lists to insert in the CD jacket. I would press the button to skip forward to the next song…then the next. Occasionally one of us would say ‘Hey, wait – haven’t heard that for awhile. Let it play through!’, and we’d sit back to enjoy that particular special sound. At one point I started to sing along. Bird glanced over at me, his expression inscrutable.

“What?” I asked. “Am I that bad?” He thought about it for a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it bad,” he answered. Then added – “But I wouldn’t call it singing neither.” His face was serious as he studied my hurt expression. He grinned. “It’s more like…a joyful noise.”

That darned Bird managed to duck in time again, and the plastic CD jacket I let go flew right by him to land on an innocent sleeping Grump. The startled dog lifted his head to stare at us, then relaxed… we were both SMILING.

Luv from The Bush in Quebec

STILL SMILING

When scans showed that the lung tumours are growing in spite of radiation and chemo injections, the doc prescribed an oral chemo called Tarceva. It is terribly expensive but is “the last resort” (the term the doc used). Because Bird was already on a disability pension, the government agreed to pay for it. Bird read over the side effects, and has refused to take it. It is not a cure, but a palliative measure. He has decided to go with dignity; once again the quality of life wins out over the quantity.

In the meantime, we have visited a Naturopath. I read Kevin Trudeau’s books (still growling!), at the suggestion of the Bird, by the way, and have been preparing organic food and juices for the past two weeks. It HAS made a difference. He has more energy, is more alert...just feels all-round better. The Naturopathic doctor suggested injections of Vitamin C and mistletoe. These cannot be done legally in Quebec; only traditional doctors can administer such a thing, so we have made an appointment to have them done in Ottawa. Ontario is more lenient it seems. I made sure to inform his lung specialist who, although disappointed that Bird is not doing the Tarceva, asked us to meet the Homeopathic representative from the hospital just to be certain that any treatment, be it pharmaceutical or organic, is not in conflict with the other. Problem: the injections were to start on Sept. 20th, but the appointment with the hospital rep is on Sept. 27th...which means another delay for time that is already short.

What we are living right now is not easy, nor is it made easier by knowing that others have, and will again, go through the same thing....or worse. However, there are special moments of love, of sharing, of laughter, that would probably not occur during days of ordinary existence, and for that I am grateful. We have been allowed time for a proper goodbye and, as Bird quips “We’ll just take our time saying it, thank you!”

The sense of humour is still intact. When going for a scan of his spine (a tumour has shown up there too), the Bird was wearing his Toronto Maple Leaf cap. The young technician grimaced when he saw it.

“You’re lucky I allow you into my scanning room wearing that hat,” he told Bird. Used to the reaction he gets in this Hab-fevered city, Bird smiled.

“Been waiting for years to see them take the Stanley Cup,” he answered. “Now that I’m dying, they’ll probably get it.”

“Ha!” scoffed the technician. “If that’s what you’re waiting on, you’ll live for another 30 years!”

The Bird winked. “Exactly!” he exclaimed.

And we all SMILED.

HE AIN'T HEAVY, HE'S MY BROTHER

Daisy & Bird,8 months ago

The nights are the hardest. I shouldn’t hear him breathing from my bedroom, but I do. I can tell when he is sleeping, or the minute he sits up, laboring to get air. Although rasping, the cough is also muted because his lungs are so full and his throat is so swollen.

The hospital bed rented from the CLSC is in the living room, placed so that he can watch constant television and/or admire the beautiful view of my mountain. Each snooze doesn’t last long, one or two hours at the most. Timed with this erratic schedule, I pull up the comfy footstool beside him and we chat off and on, make coffee, and now and then I set out some of his favorite munchies in an attempt to have him eat. His appetite is at zero, of course. Radiation had already wiped out most of his taste buds, and the chemo has screwed up whatever was left.

Our chats consist a lot me saying ‘What?’, and he grins, then shakes his head a little before repeating what he had whispered.

“We’re two parts of the ‘hear no evil, say no evil, see no evil,’” he laughs back at me. “One dumb, the other deaf. Or maybe it’s the same one who is both…”

He knows enough to duck.

In spite of his pain, his sense of humor is intact. Teasing and giggling are part of our all night conversations. There is no serious talk…not yet. We’ll wait until after the first CT scan, scheduled for August 6th (yep – hospitals are so busy the appointment is on a Saturday, at 9 PM!!). The scan will tell us what the radiation and chemo have, or have not, accomplished.

As anyone who has lived with cancer knows, there are good days and bad days. On the good days, the nice weather coaxes us out onto the gallery, and we swing, enjoying that special, peaceful silence found only in the bush. Grump alternates between us – head and neck rubs are on double offer, and he’s taking full advantage. Louka and Sally join us more often than not. Those two ladies are again in heat, and Grump’s confused reactions are fodder for Bird’s hilarious one-liners.

“Stonas”, my brother said to me when I joined him on the gallery yesterday. “That name just came into my mind. I’m trying to remember where I’ve heard it before.”

“Neighbors down the road from the farm,” I answered, surprised. “Geez, I haven’t thought of them since we left there! A long time ago, Bird!”

He nodded thoughtfully; started naming others who peopled our past. From there we recalled incidents from our childhood, one leading to the other. He has always been able to glean amusement from the most commonplace events, and things that make another’s hair rise in anger bring a grin to his face. Being such a rascal himself, very rarely will he judge anyone else, although it doesn’t stop him from making smart-ass comments. He is easily forgiven because the comments are also witty and most times comical.

As happened for both my sister and my mom, friends and family gather to give time and support. Line is doing more than her share for the business, and Helen, who was also there for my mom, makes herself available whenever I need to go into the office. Since we already have one day a week to drive into the hospital, I work from home as much as possible. Fran is an important part of my bro’s life, and spends hours watching movies with him, bringing along her little daschund, Daisy. That tiny, noisy creature loves Bird, and the feeling is mutual. Animal lovers will agree – having a trusting, furry creature cuddle up to you is ultimate comfort.

Bird bends down to Daisy, crooning whispers, and she pushes her long nose under his chin. When her warm tongue gently licks his cheek, he glances up and winks at Fran and me, and we SMILE together.

SMILES are on their way to all of you too. And again I thank you for your prayers and positive thoughts; we can feel them surrounding us.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

ANOTHER 'OOPS!'

Photo courtesy of Photobucket

"I have a bit of a cold – stuffed up some," Bird told me when I picked him up yesterday morning. "Hope they don’t refuse to give me the treatment because of that."

Even though we joked around as usual, his worry was on both our minds during the long drive to the hospital. It was a relief to learn that his blood test was okay, and that the doc left it up to Bird himself to decide whether or not he felt well enough to take the chemotherapy.

The nurse gave us the information on side effects, then set him up in a chair and installed the pumps. A cheery senior citizen, volunteering for the ‘Hope and Cope’ organization, approached us, wondering if there was anything he could do to help. My request for some water was promptly granted, and a glass of ice was served beside it. Wonderful!

"I’m hanging around here if you need anything else. I’m can be useful!" He winked as he left to stroll among the patients in the room, approaching each one with a nod and a few kind words.

Not long into the treatment, Bird mentioned that a coffee would be nice. I grabbed the elevator and rode it down to the ‘Second Cup’ counter. Well aware of my tendency to spill, or trip, or just run into things, I grabbed a handful of napkins. When I stepped out of the elevator on the 8th floor, I was feeling quite proud of myself – both Styrofoam cups were as full as when the waiter had transferred me the responsibility for their welfare!

There is a choice of clichés to tell you what happened next. One would be ‘Don’t count your chickens before they hatch’; ‘or maybe ‘Look before you leap’; better yet, ‘Pride cometh before a fall’. In plain English, the best thing to say is ‘PAY ATTENTION!!!’

I WAS paying attention (to the very cute intern walking in the corridor) but just did not remember the sharp angle of the corner and…yeh…I hit the wall. Scalding coffee slurped on my hand – I yelped and let go of the villain cup. When the hot liquid splashed on my feet, I yelped again…something that rhymes with Puck…then scrambled to right the cup to save some of its contents. It took a few minutes, much stoic ignoring of pain, and every napkin I had to clean the mess.

When I finally reached my brother, my attempt to camouflage the incident didn’t work.

"It’s really hot," I said in my most casual tone of voice. "I left some room for you to add water to cool it down." My bro, who knows me so well, glanced at the half-full cup of coffee, then at my shoes with their tell-tale stains. He grinned, but I was saved from any smart-ass remark by the arrival of our Hope and Cope volunteer.

“Smart lady!” the volunteer gushed. “I make coffee here too, but it’s not nearly as good as that of the Second Cup. I love their coffee!”

“Well then,” I gushed back. “The next time I go down, I’ll bring you one too! A return of good service!” He patted my arm as he laughed, then kept moving. My brother had been silent during the exchange, but I knew better than to think I would get off so easy.

“You know,” the bro smirked. “If he wants some right now, there should be a cup... between his water and your shoes…” He fell silent when I lifted the wadded ball of wet napkins I had not yet managed to discard. He knows my aim is pretty good, and he was in no position to duck.

A long moment, then his wink called a truce, and we both SMILED.

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY to my friends in the USA, and HAPPY CANADA DAY to my Canadian buddies…adding a whole weekend worth of SMILES with that!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

SMILES!

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I needed more weed-eater cord and some gas for the yard machines. The young man cleaning outside was doing a fine job, and I didn’t want his work interrupted by lack of material so, without changing from my very casual ‘working at home’ attire, I jumped into the truck and headed to town. I yelled at him through an open window on the way down the driveway, “I’ll be back in 30 minutes!”

It was only when I arrived at the village limits that it hit me. Today was Tuesday…Flea Market day. As I sat at the side road stop sign, waiting for vehicle after vehicle to crawl slowly by, I knew that there was no way I could do my usual rush around. Driving in our village on Flea Market day is as exasperating as trying to go anywhere in a hurry through city traffic! For many of the area farmers, it is the one day of the week they take the time…and plenty of it….to meander around town, doing all their shopping, or visiting, or treating themselves to a restaurant meal. Add their slow and careful driving to that of hesitant tourists looking for directions and you soon realize you are not going anywhere fast!

Hunched over my steering wheel, spitting and muttering to myself, I begrudgingly waved a thank-you to the courteous driver who stopped and beckoned for me to pull out ahead of him. Both he and his passenger, an elderly lady sporting a straw hat, waved back and...what huge smiles they gave me! Big, warm, cheerful expressions of glee! I blinked, and hardly had time to think about it before I was smiling back at them. My mood immediately lightened, my hands unclenched, and my breathing eased.

It took much longer than normal to reach the Canadian Tire store situated on the other end of town. It was crowded, and there was some negotiating in the people-filled aisles to reach the lawn care section. With my now more relaxed attitude, I noted that many of them were dressed similar to myself; jeans, checked shirt, and runners….and lots of caps or sunhats. No suits or heels here; these were comfortable country clothes.

Another thing most of them were wearing was smiles; smiles as they stopped to casually chat with a neighbor, smiles as they apologized and moved out of someone’s way, smiles as they teased the clerks who were assisting the hunt for that one particular article.

Yep – it was over two hours before I completed the 30 minute errand and could head to my house. The weed-eater had run out of cord, but the enterprising young man had found a pair of shears in the garage, and was trimming the hanging branches in the driveway when I arrived. He ambled over to help me unload the gas cans.

“Sorry,” I said. “It took a little longer than expected.”

“Yeh,” he answered. He’s a local boy, so he knew. “Flea market day.”

Grinning, he held up the shears. “These don’t need gas or cord. No sweat.” Of course not!

I was still musing on this learning experience when I returned to the pile of papers at my desk. This working from home will take some adjusting. No rush. No hassle. No sweat. Plenty of time to SMILE. Delightful!!

Sharing it with you!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

LA VISITE!!!

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Visitors.

I had forgotten that it is all part and parcel of caring for a sick relative – the number of people who wish to spend precious time with the invalid. My brother has many friends, and we have family spread all over the country. It was great to see his face light up when one of his best buddies showed up last Thursday. He stayed with the Bird until yesterday, and my bro was still smiling when he left. This weekend my younger brother from New Brunswick, hopefully with his family in tow, is expected to come for the holiday. If Bird’s strength is up to it, he’ll be having his first chemo treatment on Thursday, and we’re keeping our fingers crossed that he won’t be too sick to enjoy their company. He’ll be staying here, with the guests, and those are the moments when one is thankful for a roomy house! And no, I’m not going to mention housework... most of it is done with a lick and a promise anywaY.

The lease for the smaller office in the city has been signed. The move will be made whenever we find an hour to spare, unless we are fortunate enough to sub-let our present place before September. Financially it would be a boon, but adding that event to what is already taking place would be a hassle! I’ve been carrying documents home, which will permit me to work from the house except for the one day per week, when someone will stay with my bro as I do my 3 hour drive in and out to the city. Once again, because of my many absences and reduced staff, we’ve fallen behind. I’ve just accepted that playing catch up is the story of my life! I can’t count how often I take a deep breath and remind myself, “One day at a time!”

A bonus – Suzie is home!! She arrived Saturday from Detroit, and will be here for approximately two weeks. We spent a couple of hours chatting together on her first evening, and my, but it was good to hug that girl!! Even if we’ll only see each other off and on due to my heavy schedule (and hers - it being her hometown she is surrounded by family and friends during her stay), just having her around is good tonic.

That’s it for now, folks. Once again I want to thank everyone for their support. Bird asked me to say the same – he’s well aware that many are praying for him, and appreciates it. We both wish you a great day, and send you our biggest and grateful SMILES!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

"WHAT??"

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Bird had a bad day on Sunday; side effects from the radiation therapy probably. He wasn’t into going to the hospital, so I stayed with him and we waited it out. By the time Fran dropped in around 3 PM, he was feeling better, and when I returned to replace her around 7 PM, even better still.

On Monday he was in top shape, considering his condition. Yesterday, we were back at the hospital for his 2nd radiation treatment, and we shared the usual laughs on the long drive back and forth. He’s a terrible tease and, more often than not, bests me with his witty remarks. His voice is still hardly louder than a whisper, but he manages to make himself understood, in spite of my slightly deaf ear. Anyone sitting in the back seat would hear a conversation something like this:

“ Psst, psst, psst psst.”

“What? “ (Me, leaning my head towards the passenger side, trying to keep my eyes on the road.)

“Pssst, psst, psst.”

“Shut your darned window! I still can’t hear what you’re saying!” I’m frowning by now. Bird rolls his eyes, shakes his head slightly, and hits the automatic button to close the window, then raises his whisper a level. The spectator in the back seat will still not be able to discern his words.

“PSST, PSST, PSST!” I’m looking more at Bird than at the road. It’s a lip-reading exercise. I usually understand by the 3rd repetition.

“Of course I saw that pedestrian!” I answer. “Whaddya talking about? I missed him by a mile!”

I glance at the dude on the corner of the sidewalk. He does look a little white-faced, and is he staring at ME? The traffic light changes to green. I check in my rear view mirror, and note that the dude waits until we’ve rolled passed before attempting a second crossing. I’m not looking at the Bird now, but still catch every other word he’s whispering.

“Psst, psst…window closed...psst, psst…not smell…psst, psst…that poor…psst, psst….in his pants! “ He’s looking at me and grinning. The back seat spectator won’t have to lean forward to hear my loud retort of “F*ck you Bird!!!”, nor our laughter.

I should say hear MY laughter. Bird’s sound is similar to that asthmatic wheeze of the cartoon dog, Muttley. His head is nodding with the effort, but it comes out like a whispered “Hee-hee-hee-hee”.

This type of conversation happens over and over again during the drive. The spectator will probably lean back in the seat, lose count of the number of times the windows go down, then up , then down, then up; and, like me, he will strongly suspect that my mouthy bro’ times his remarks on purpose just to watch my reaction.

One thing for sure – this same spectator will feel the easy closeness between the siblings in the front seat. Even if he can only catch an occasional word of the repartee, I’m certain it will make him SMILE.

Sending mine out to you, folks, and wishing you a great day!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A BATTLE.

My sister, Gomer, Bird, and me. This was Gomer's last Christmas, 1994.
It‘s 4:30 AM, and the birds have a real concert going on out there. The beautiful weather we’ve had for the past few days means every window in the house is wide open, so the trills and tweets float in and around each room. Lovely. Perfect for early morning smiles.

I finally managed two full nights of real sleep – another reason to smile. The world is so much nicer when seen through eyes that are not glazed over.

The past two weeks have been centered in or about the hospital – every day - either hours travelling back and forth to it, or sitting waiting in it, or swearing at it…a lesson in frustration and patience. After conflicting reports from various doctors who were saying too much, yet too little, I once again had to resort to losing my cool and making nasty noises before they finally arranged a meeting with the head honcho – the lung specialist. That happened on Thursday. What was achieved? At least now we have the real diagnosis – it is non- small cell lung cancer, Stage 4, in both lungs. Bird has had one shot of radiation therapy, and will get another next Tuesday – to ease his pain and to help him breathe a little better. On June 30th, if the lung specialist finds Bird strong enough, there will be chemotherapy. None of it good news, but better than what we were told at the beginning of last week – that only two radiation treatments would be done, then….nothing. He’d be kept “comfortable”. No treatment to help him fight back. Acceptable for some maybe, but not for us. It has never been in our nature to take things lying down. Whatever the outcome, there will be a battle – it’s not over until the fat lady sings.

It’s needless to tell you that neither of us got a lot of sleep during this time. What is helping is the support and encouragement of so many people – Dawna and Malcolm who were here nearly every night for a week; Susie and Suzie who call every day; Line who is holding up the business practically on her own; Fran, whose presence does great things for my brother’s morale…and so many more. Not a day goes by without a note of encouragement from someone on Facebook, or an e-mail from my dear friend Kilroy, and the prayers and warm notes from members in my Blogit family. Bless you all – it makes such a difference.

Today’s plan is to dig into much neglected housework. My Cuban Friends will be showing up later to finish installing the long awaited vanity in my bathroom, and I promised Bird that I would make him cinnamon buns. I have a box of documents from the office to go through, and Grump needs attention too. A long walk and cuddles are on the agenda for him. Life does go on, and each moment is precious, even more so when we make it fun (I'm still trying to figure out how to get fun out of housework...)

I’ll be getting to it, folks. The sun is already peeking at my mountain, a beautiful sight that never fails to bring on my SMILE. I’m sending it out to y’all. A big, warm hug with that?

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

PS: I am in Blogit regularly – clicking and reading if not always commenting. I want to tell you too that Merkie-Margaret has finally published her book of poems. It’s on Amazon – “My Jingles – Merkie’s Muse”. My copy should be in sometime next week – YIPPEE!

WHO YOU CALLING OLD??

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My friend Kilroy was right when he emailed that posts to my blog were rare lately. I checked the date of the one before last, and realized how much time had flown by. I’m still scratching my head in confusion. Have the clocks gained speed, or am I just moving even slower? One thing for sure – I’m not keeping up like I used to.

Yesterday was a beautiful, sunny Saturday full of activity. There was a birthday party for my two youngest grandsons, Bali turning 4 on the 7th, and Tao, who will be a whole year old on the 12th. My brother, Bird, and I joined the rest of the family for a BBQ at noon. There were oodles of little ones running and playing and having a ball; mommies and daddies or aunties and uncles stepping up now and then to push the swings or a bicycle, wrap shivering little bodies in towels as they exited the pool, applying layer after layer of sunscreen, feeding, kissing, hugging, wiping the occasional tear…. delightful pandemonium! It lasted until naptime, and I loved every minute of it.

From there, I dropped a tired Bird off at his home, where Fran would keep him company, and made my way to the second occasion, this one held by four who were celebrating their ‘thirty something’. It doesn’t seem so long ago that their parties were very similar to the one I had just left, the only exception being that they were friends of my children instead of my grandchildren. It too was pool-side, the milk was replaced by alcohol, and the sense of fun was not lacking. I have known these kids since they were in diapers, receive an invitation every year, and I am spoiled rotten whenever I’m with them.

However, I believe I was the oldest person in both crowds.

And…although it was all very enjoyable…I had enough. Besides, the second game of hockey finals started at 8 PM. I arrived home, flicked on the television, then settled onto the couch with an ecstatic Grump, armed with a hot, sweet cup of coffee (finally!), and embarked on the familiar play by play text messaging with Sam444. A fitting end to an eventful day.

When it was over, Grump and I stood out on the gallery, star gazing for a few minutes before going to bed. “Once upon a time, I’d have been heading right back to that party!” I told him. “Now you couldn’t pay me enough to do that.” I looked down at him. He was paying close attention.

“What is it, Grump-puppy? Am I getting old? How did that happen?” I asked. His tail wagged carefully. Being a male, he had learned long ago not to respond to loaded questions. We stood in silence for a few more minutes while we pondered my question.

“Nah.” I decided. “It’s not age. It’s just that my priorities have changed a little, and all this hospital stuff has left me tired. Whaddya think?” The tail wagged faster.

Reassured that he agreed with my conclusion, I looked back up to the stars. Satisfied that I could still kick my heels when I wanted to, I remembered that life was good….and I was SMILING.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.