A New Dawn

I don’t know if your interests include the space program with NASA, and the various discoveries in the universe that are announced from time to time.

I think space exploration is an exciting adventure, an opportunity to turn fiction into fact.

With the advent of todays technology, it is now possible to look at all the wonders of the universe thus far. Using the computer, it’s like looking through a window at the photos of different planets and space. The recent Mars explorations have shown us some wonderful views.

One site in particular really got my attention, so much so, I just had to write a poem on it, I hope you enjoy.


~photo of Mars by NASA~

Another World

Rocks of silver and hues of gold
Perhaps a billion or more years old,
These stones I’m certain could surely tell
Of a planets death and a ride through hell.

Civilization there just had to be,
Perhaps beings, kin to you and me.
Sadly the stories we may never know.
Such firestorms. Finality. So long ago.

Seems planet Earth is so hell-bent,
To travel the path that Mars was sent.
Mankind, lifes lessons have never learned.
Are we too late ~ the warnings spurned?

Even now we can change, though it may be too late,
Screaming as we plummet, toward hells gate
Earth’s downward spiral, to its final hour.
Perhaps there is a savior ~ a greater power? ~

Don’t bank on it.

Eric Valentine Dec 18/08 ©

C'ya

Excursion

Mother was here for a short visit over Christmas, we took these pictures on the drive back on Xmas day. We thought the skies would make good pictures. At times ominous, but with more storm clouds on the horizon. (clickable thumbnails.)









C'ya

A Christmas Wish

I sit here at the window,
Looking out into the World.
And as I glanced about the town,
The thought then crossed my mind
Where would we be today
If no one stopped, to say hello,
As they scampered on their way.

So then I thought I’d make this wish,
Wish for friends, both near and far.
To take the time and say hello,
Show what good friends you are.
For in the present company,
We have many friends you see,
For you granted us, our Christmas wish.
Season’s greetings, to you and thee!

Eric Valentine Dec 19/08 ©

C'ya

Bah Humbug!

We were out driving yesterday taking care of those ‘that time of the year things,’ ~ yes Christmas is knocking on the door once again.
Coming back through town we saw “Bob.” You remember, Bob of the chicken dance and Alzheimers? I must say I wonder often at the state of his world, as he goes from day to day.

This last few months have really been something else haven’t they?
What with all the election hoopla stateside, turning out such a pleasing result with Barack Obama President elect, now the world can sit back, hold its breath and wait and see, I’m thinking.

More recently here in Canada, there was the disgusting state of affairs with our government and our prime minister/I wannabe a president. My opinion anyway. Then the final let-down with the governor general allowing that idiot to get off the hook by a prorogue of parliament, thus suspending government, leaving nobody to run the country for two months. Just so he can avoid a no confidence vote. A pretty dumb move with all that is going on in the world economic scene and recession banging on the door.

Last but not least, winter has arrived here early yet again. That should bolster a few spirits I must say, people having to use the heating this early once more, when every dollar must count. What with all the thousands of lost jobs, lost homes for a number of people and Christmas standing in line, I doubt that a lot of people will be thinking very merry this year.

I took a look at Bob doing his brief happy dance down the street as we drove by. He actually seemed to have weathered this last year quite well if appearances are anything to go by. He still needed a haircut, but that boyish smile is glued on his face when you see him. He still walks along quite bent over, with almost every step looking like it could be his last, he actually looks better when he is dancing! But he survives the passage of time quite well.

In thinking on the worlds troubles, I have a new thought these days.

Bob the great equalizer, complete with his Alzheimers, for nothing bothers him in the least. It's strange that Bob is shielded from the realities of the present world and economic troubles, by his very disease.

The Alzheimers, wrapped around him like a protective cloak.

Merry Christmas Bob!

C'ya

Misconception

COPD sucks! Don't kid yourself, smoking and enjoying that cigarette is nothing but a misconception. Unbeknown to you at the time, it will leave you with a deadly surprise, that’s if you smoke long enough.

Imagine being drafted into the military, fully knowing that you are going to be involved in battles, a war perhaps at some point.
When you come down with COPD, you are drafted for life and every minute of each day will become your battle.

You start your day with your inhalers and pills, all lined up like little soldiers on parade; then you ride into battle and knock them all down, each time knowing, that the next day and every day they will be there once again. You will do this on a daily basis for the rest of your life.

Entering the world of COPD, every single moment is a battle for your life. Once in, there is no other way out, there are no cures and the best you can do is look to slow down the progress of your COPD. You struggle for every breath you take, and even the very quality of that breath has varying levels. If you are an air retainer which a lot of people become; then that means you really cannot get a good deep breath so you end up gasping and reaching for your next breath, almost before you have finished exhaling the previous one.
By now if you’re smart, you have done something to try and handle this disease.

There are things available that will help you combat and handle your situation somewhat. Take a rehab course, for there are many places out there that put them on. A rehab course will educate you about COPD and teach you to know and how to better handle your particular situation; how to breath better and exercise thus slowing down the progress of the disease, and thereby prolonging your life.

Lately I have pictured COPD as a raft out in the middle of the ocean. The raft is only big enough to accommodate a certain number of people and already the raft is very full. Surrounding the raft are thousands of other people with COPD; all clutching to the sides of the raft trying their best to cling to life and their breathing, for the raft helps keep them afloat. The raft at this point can be their desire to live, their willingness to work and exercise, eat right, work hard to do all the right things. Slowing down the progress of COPD after all, is all that you can hope for.

There are those out there unfortunately, who have been hanging onto the sides of the raft for what seems like an interminable age. Sadly, eventually they will become too weak and distraught, losing the ability to even draw a breath and to keep a grip of the raft. Slowly they will lose the fire and willingness to hang on any longer, releasing their hold on the raft and slip away, only to make room for another eager desperate person trying so hard to grab hold.

COPD will command your attention for every minute of your waking day, for it has to if you hope to survive. Your COPD will become the biggest focal point in your life, overriding all else. It’s hard to imagine a life like that, but believe me there are millions around the world in such a predicament.

So what does your cigarette taste like now my friend? Do you still need a personal experience with COPD in order to get the message, or maybe you want to test the raft waters?

C’ya

In A Box of Black Wood

It’s funny how things happen sometimes. I think everyone at one time or another just sits there in a quiet moment and reminisces. That’s the time when it seems the flood gates open and a whole box of memories run rampant all over the living room floor like the memory alphabet gone mad!

I had a day like that not too long ago; the truth is, I get many nights like that, it must be an age thing, or maybe just reviewing inventory of my life.

Sometimes I sit here looking over my files and thinking where did all these thousands of words came from, not only that, but also under what circumstances did these words make their escape. It’s a writers thing I guess.

Recently I was having one of those such moments and “The City of Poets” came to mind. The city was a forum where many people like myself would go and post their poetic creations. The forum was put together and run by Roy York, a southern gentleman, better known online as “Knight-owl or Sgt. Pop”, we quickly became online friends. It was a great place to be and you met lots of good people. Roy is an excellent writer in his own right with some beautiful creations to his credit. I saved a piece that he wrote that I want to share with you, I think it is a brilliant poem. So without further ado and Sgt. Pops permission, I give you his poem.

In A Box of Black Wood

Opening the book, he searched for the final paragraph he read the last time he had this problem. It was only two nights ago, not time enough to catch up with the sleep necessary to make each day bearable. Somehow he managed to keep going though.

The tasks of the day were minimal, amounting to not much more than picking up around the house, which was always picked up anyhow.
No one there to make a mess; the dishes were not used,
save for his plate, a coffee cup and an occasional glass, like now.

Not remembering the last passage in his book, he slipped it into it's slot, placing it just so to match the neat soldierly line of its neighbors.
Walking to the porch, he surveyed his part of the world, spying William across the road, and Perry next door, hard at their labours.

Suddenly, with the fury of a terrier pup in hot pursuit of the neighbor cat, a small bundle of energy burst through the thick, green hedgerow bearing down on him with a look of joy and determination in it's eyes.
He was shocked when he thought; "How fast that boy seems to grow!"

In the boy's arms was a tiny ball of fur; his little friend, a small kitten. Their advance was swift, but the attack on the steps was a slow one.
His joints were stiff and painful and his heart was weak. But he came to love and to cuddle; then sleep came to an old man and his grandson.

The boy was seven; he was seventy-seven.
Though he still had his sleepless nights, so had the child his painful days.
Each, when he could, made the others' life full in so many ways.
He survived twelve more years.

On a cloudy, windy day in May, Cat and I laid the old gentleman to rest in a box of black wood.

We were alone. I wondered,
"When my turn comes, will I have someone, or will I be alone?
What do I do now?
Will there be a grandson to build my box of black wood?"

Roy York, Sr
© October 20, 2002

C'ya

A Soldiers Homecoming

In these uncertain days in a world of wars, most assuredly the thoughts must cross the minds of those leaving for the countries of war. Will they be the one who may not return?

This poem is dedicated to all the combat forces of today.


A Soldiers Homecoming

Time is fast approaching when, I shall soon be home
Has it really been so long that I’ve been gone?
Your memory is like sweet music, to my mind when I lay prone,
But your smell and tender touch, is what I long for while I’m gone.

How long is long, in life my friend, with years still yet to come
For this parting in my memories, I will keep,
As I treasure all the moments, when once more I am home
For in that magic moment, for you I know, I’ll weep.

All the hours that I have lost, won’t really mean a thing
For this country is the thing that I’ve missed most,
All the pain, my longing, will be but a moments sting,
For has it really been that long, since I was there on your coast.

The time is fast approaching when, I shall soon be home
And my wanderings, will be a thing soon, of the past,
All else will be forgotten, as I no longer roam
All else, except the hunger for the country, I might have lost.

Eric Valentine Sept. 18/94 ©

Poetry

Inspiration comes from the depths of the mind
Which is triggered by the feelings and
Emotions of the body.
That in turn, transcends into an outpouring of words,
Which struggle to actively express,
The torments of the soul.
This is known as Poetry.

E. Valentine 1994 ©

A 2nd Chance?

I was reading an interesting article about Reba today. I had written a few words along that line, surprisingly enough. ~

Just Thinking

To be born again in today’s world,
Could just be a recipe for failure.

With the luxury of having been born once,
Perhaps that’s all one can afford.
For when was the last time you
Opened your windows
To let some reality in.

Eric Valentine Oct 1/08 ©

Willow Park

We were down at the park on sunday, what a beautiful sunny day for pictures. A brilliant sight to behold and of course, there was Ted's music drifting on the breeze..... Perfection.

Misted thoughts

As One

My love,
You are my heartbeat.
But if in time,
You should fail to beat,
So too would I
Then cease to breathe.

Eric Valentine Oct 5/08 ©
***
Observation

Unfortunately the world is full of
‘Gladiators’ who carry the scar's,
They picked up in the arena of life.
They are not always hidden,
By the fine clothes they wear.

Eric Valentine Nov 1994 ©

South is Thataway!

Canada Geese getting ready for the parade.


I have been studying these geese for some little time now.

There is a park across the road from where we live. Beside there being a sizeable lake, there are walkways, gardens and a playing field. This area is a sizeable habitat for a variety of wildlife and the geese in particular.

When not on the lake or some other such mischief, they congregate on the playing field in large numbers especially when the sun is out. The strange thing I found is, they all sit facing the sun as it dips toward the west, in rows almost like a battalion of soldiers on parade. It is very regimentally impressive I have to admit.

I have come to the conclusion, that just as humans have a need for vitamin D, so too do wild life, the birds in particular. Almost as if they are charging their batteries ready for the long flight south.

Of course having the geese around in such numbers, one gets to see them in flight, in their now well known V formation. Which raised another question, why? To which I also formed my own opinionated answer.

When in flight there is always one goose at the lead position, changing one could presume at intervals, moving from the lead down back to the rear of the flock. I determined then, that over the course of their journey, no doubt every goose within that group, would spend a time both leading and also at rearguard.

It occurred to me. What if they arrive at the wrong destination? They would have no one to blame, but themselves. Maybe even, all that honking is everyone trying to give the lead goose directions! Bunch-a backseat drivers! J ~

C’ya

No Cause for Alarm

Have you ever had some of those days when you feel like the ball, in a pinball machine? For some time now things around here have been too calm and uneventful. That is until recently.

Last week we were around the stores (four of them) looking at 5x8 area rugs. Of course we couldn’t agree on a pattern or price, so came home empty handed a number of times.

I should tell you that lately when we go into the store, the carpet area in particular, we appear to get funny looks from the staff, or else it’s my imagination. Anyway that’s how it feels, as the hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle.

I forgot to mention that in her eagerness to examine every rolled up carpet in the store, Elizabeth has a wrestling match, eventually managing to pin every carpet with a fall in the aisle! Believe me, everything falls down and it looks like a bomb hit the place. After a half baked attempt to correct the situation, we sneak furtively away and leave things for the store assistants to sort out. You get the picture.

The other day we had a great day, at least we thought so. We had settled the carpet fiasco a day or so prior, so didn’t have to worry about that anymore. So out we went again and ventured into the uncharted waters of a huge new mall complex. Hiking boots and a good quality leather back pack were the intended shopping victims for the day.

We do seem to get ourselves into some situations at times, well the wife does, and she belongs to me so we’re it!

We didn’t get the boots that day but the back pack was a real beauty!
Or was until one of the zippers went a few days later. I will spare you the wails of anguish accompanied with the pain. Talk about panic stations!

First we tried to fix the zipper but quickly realized that we were out of luck there. Next thought was obviously lets get a return, or better, an exchange. That’s when Elizabeth paled somewhat as she told me she had that very morning dumped the cash register receipt into the garbage! Mission impossible now was to recover the receipt, so you know what that entailed.

Fortunately for us they have quite a sophisticated garbage set up here, so at least we wouldn’t have to go through mountains of crap.

As it was there was the wife up to her armpits sifting through the bags looking for our bag of litter. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever see her doing that.
Believe me the relationship between Elizabeth and her new leather bag is a torrid affair, so nothing was going to stop her from getting that receipt back!

I could see she had been successful when she came back with a triumphant smile on her face, albeit a little mussed up.

The following step was pretty dull after all the excitement and panic. A trip to the store, a few nice words with the assistant and out came the wife smirking all over her face and brandishing her new bag.

On the way home we called in at the carpet store. They had some smaller rugs on sale to match the carpet we bought earlier, so we picked one up. ~

At our apartment we are lucky, not only do we have the elevator, but they have a shopping cart to help carry the loot the upstairs.

The elevator is not overlarge, so when we get the cart in there plus me with my walker it gets somewhat congested. Today we were going upstairs in the elevator when Elizabeth decides she wants to turn the cart around ready to get off at our floor, that’s when the fun began, again!

In turning she somehow caught the emergency button with the buggy, which dials for help, thus setting the alarms in motion! Elizabeth’s first words were “Wow! The shopping cart is the exact same height as the alarm button!”

To our horror there didn’t seem to any way to shut this thing off! ~ Yeah, you got it. We hightailed it out of there as if the place was on fire, thankfully nobody answered the call this time. Never a dull moment where we are I can tell you!


C’ya

Loss of a Legend

Today is another sad day in the film world and that of all movie goers. All too frequently, my heart is heavy once more at the loss of yet another icon of the movie business. I speak of course of Paul Newman.

Throughout my life I think I can say I saw most all of his movies. Who can forget such classics as "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "The Verdict," “Exodus“ "The Sting" and "Absence of Malice” to mention a few.

This last year or two it seems like too many have been vanishing from the big screen of life.

Of course he will be sadly missed, as he now joins such giants of the film world, as Clark Gable, John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart, Marlon Brando, and James Stewart, the list gets ever longer. There are many good actors out there but, I wonder sometimes, wherever are the new great ones that will fill the void? They do appear to be few indeed.

If you’re like me, you think these men would live always, so you seemingly never notice how old they have become, for I know I don‘t. I’ve often marveled at the artistry of the make up people in films. Lets face it, old can be made young and young made to look old.

Over the course of going to the movies one sees many actors, then you see the great ones the likes of Paul Newman and others that have passed before him.

These are the giants that I feel should live forever and indeed they do, if only in memory. In losing Paul Newman it causes me to glance around at the ever decreasing numbers of those greats that are left. Sleep peaceful my friend, I thank you for the memories you bestowed upon me and mankind.

Soaring Free

Spent the last couple of days involved in nature things. That kind of reminded me of a poem I wrote not long ago. (clickable thumbnail)




C'ya

Adventure

This is a part of an adventure that I have become involved in recently. You have seen the pictures that I posted of the park last year. So whether you're Irish or not "Keep the Green".
***
This announcement of course is more in keeping with people close enough (Ontario Canada) to take advantage of this fine event, come out and enjoy.

***

You are invited to be our guest at the 10th Anniversary celebration on Sunday, October 5th from 1:00 - 4:00 p.m. at the Park. We will meet old friends, make new ones and celebrate all that the Park has become over the last ten years. The afternoon's activities are detailed in the attached poster. We hope to see you there! (clickable thumbnail)




C'ya

Dogface

Aren't Moms just wonderful, she sent us this card recently.

At 82 she still has a knack for picking a funny laugher. Thank you Mom, you're a sweetie.





C'ya

Tidbits

I was idly reading an article, contemplating the latest price for gas and wondering what new highs and lows were in the local news today.

One of today’s topics I believe was something to do with grocery stores and bagging your own groceries. ~ There was some mention about cashiers bagging or not, or at least something along that line of ~ Can you remember when?

Along a related line was the latest on environment green. No more plastic bags ~ back to paper bags again? But then what about cutting down the trees to make the bags? I tell you it’s a no win situation.

So can you just imagine some person having to bag their own groceries, standing in the line up and hating every minute of it. What was worse, ~ even having to buy the bags!

There they are dragging their butt and grumbling all the time while they bag. I guess one can’t blame them when you see the prices in the grocery stores these days.

This for some reason prompted me to come out with the remark:

‘Bag your own grocery shopping bag rage!’
I mean like. ~ Just think about it.

We have road rage and someone stole the parking space rage, or someone jumped the lineup rage etc, etc.

“Jeeze the stores these days want you to do their work for them! While they stand watching, with their blah, blah, blah.”

If you’ve ever grocery shopped, then you have heard it all before I’m sure.

Meanwhile you get someone else who is waiting in line, getting a little bit impatient, stomping around whilst waiting their turn to bag.

I can see it all now, ~ “Man gets arresting for whacking another customer with a wet lettuce while bagging same!” ~

The mind could work wonders with that one.

I must keep that possibility in mind and shop where they bag the groceries for you!

C’ya

Glorious Sunset

After so much rain and thunderstorms of late, it was a nice change last night to get a beautiful sunset ~ the moon also showing was an added bonus. (clickable thumbnail )

Hockey Night in Canada

Just lately there has been a lot of hullabaloo about the Hockey Night in Canada theme music. The surprising thing is, this music has been used for the last forty years ~ now all of a sudden this commotion.

This has prompted CBC to scamper around, considering the unspeakable. The Toronto Star newspaper has even launched a contest for a replacement song/poem, so at a suggestion of a friend I thought ~ why not!

Hockey Night in Canada

With the sounding of the trumpet,
The drumming of the beat
Excitement reaching feverish pitch,
As the fans reach out to greet.

Players coming onto the ice.
Cherry waving, takes a look
Smiling, as excitement resounds
With the dropping of the puck.

The roar of the impatient crowd,
Sounding out the rallying call,
It’s hockey night in Canada
Come on you fans, come all.

Eric Valentine Aug 11-08 ©

Go git em Leafs!

Footnote

After further research I have discovered my friend was wrong. They are looking for a song not a poem!.. ~ Any takers?! LOL

C'ya

Doggie Diner

A friend mailed me the fawn pics earlier, I thought it was cute.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

A fawn followed this beagle home -- apparently, right through the doggie door --

Later the owner came home to find the visitor had made himself right at home.






Not to be out-done, ~ why not said the bear!




C'ya

Primrose

You are mostly familiar with our outings last summer to Willow Park. Since then we have moved and are again blessed with living next to another beautiful park and lake.

When you live in an apartment you miss having a garden. We have tried to resolve that by using planter boxes of various size and shapes to grow flowers and herbs.

This annual is Elizabeth’s favorite. I believe it is called an “African Daisy” (osteospermum), very beautiful and picturesque, so many flowers budding.

C'ya

The Sign

Recently June 20th 2008, was the 100th year anniversary of the publication of L.M. Montgomery’s “Anne of Green Gables”.
As part of that event so long ago, the history that followed is known worldwide.

Norval, a small town not far from here has a small memorial garden that was created in her honor, and the fact that she spent part of her life living there from 1926-1935 along with her husband Presbyterian Minister, Ewan Macdonald.

This photograph is of a section of the memorial garden. There are a number of dedication signs on pedestals throughout the garden and pavilion area. The reason for my attention to this particular one, speaks for itself, and the muse for my writing. (clickable thumbnail)

Eric Valentine © C'ya

Surf n Sale

Who said "Trunk sailing” wasn’t exhausting!




Last week we went through the newspapers looking for garage sales. It’s amazing how many of them there are each summer. Having just moved, we were in the market (pardon the pun) for a few items.

How different things are nowadays. Today we used the computer map-quest search, for all the street names we didn’t know. Plotting a route to take in our onslaught for the goodies. It’s amazing how many people get themselves out there ‘in the hunt’. Long caravans of vehicles practically racing each other to see who can get there first, ~ ‘follow that van!’.

Whilst in the planning stages I got a little curious. I remembered the English TV program “ Steptoe & Son” the ‘rag and bone men’ from the successful BBC series. I remembered the same people in real life from when I was a kid growing up in England. That brought to mind other well known names related, I thought, like trunk sales, rummage sales, garage sales as well as the famous ‘Flea Markets’. I decided to google the origin. ~ What a pleasant surprise and such a good read. This is the link:


These are part of the loot from our sojourn into the world of sometimes mad, who said it doesn‘t pay to get ready to rumble!




BarBells for exercising. $5.00





Cabinet to hold microwave.. $4.00





Finally what I figured was 'The Prize' ~ Marble Chess set $1.00!!





We arrived home, feeling a little like “Fagan from Oliver Twist!” having picked someone’s pocket.

C'ya

Sentiment

I haven’t done much of anything this last few days. Maybe it’s the weather but I don’t really think so. Since we moved a month ago life has been somewhat different with a smattering of chaos thrown in. Apart from us having to try and get things back in order in our new place, it’s been hard to get motivated at times.

In the beginning there was such an excitement for finally getting away from the old place and all its problematic headaches. Lately though for myself, I have felt a little sadness. I do believe I actually miss some of the stuff from our last home.

The most natural thing are the birds, we don’t get the same kind of birds where we are now, and can you believe I miss seeing Bob! Yes! Bob of the Alzheimer’s, the chicken dance man and remember, the new name on our Christmas card list? ~ That Bob.

I have on occasion found myself talking to Elizabeth about him and worrying if he is still alright. We found ourselves looking for him when we were driving in town. For the longest time we saw nothing, then finally one day we spotted him. Poor Bob, here it was a scorching hot day and he was still wearing a winter coat and needing a haircut badly.

It’s nice though when you stop and talk to him. At first he looks at you quizzically, not quite remembering who we are. Then you see his eyes start to light up as a glimmer of memory eventually registers with his thinking. That’s the way Bob, you haven’t forgotten us after all! It just takes a little time, but then a smile lights up his whole face.
We chat briefly, then we tell him “You really have to get a haircut Bob”, another smile crosses his face.

We drive on and I am surprised, suddenly I feel a lot better about the day.

God, is this what getting older does to a person? Am I becoming my brothers keeper? It has to be the way the world is going! ~

To hell with it all. Have a great day and live it up.

C’ya

Downloads & Upgrades

A few weeks ago Elizabeth had her cardiolite stress test. Last week while talking to her mother, she learned that her mom is going for the same test in a couple of weeks time.

A couple of days ago we ran the truck in for an oil change and usual checks.

Tonight while waiting for supper, mom was on my mind. It occurred to me that I wasn’t aware that she had any heart problems, even at 82 years of age. So why the test?

I’ve never been a doctor, a mechanic, or somebody in the field of education. What I have been, is someone from the old school. I completed my schooling at 14 years of age. That is what the norm was when I was young, unless you were fortunate enough to further your schooling in college, or some such educational institution.

What has all this got to do with mom and her test you might ask? Well, I have been one of those people who always marvel at the human body. Nobody needs to tell you what a complex piece of equipment we are, you and I.

Just think of all the component parts that collectively make us tick. When something is not quite right the body lets us know in a hurry and off to the doctor we go, for a systems check up.

I often compare the human body to the automobile. That too has all its component flowing parts, the oil, coolant and electrical systems. The vehicle complete with the engine and other minor parts works very much like its human counterpart. It also lets you know when something is not right, just check your mechanic’s bills for proof of that.

Oft times when I get into a conversation about somebody’s illness or symptoms of a problem, that’s when I start making the comparisons, sort of a form of an analogy. I am surprised sometimes how accurate it turns out.

So getting back to mother, I do know she has had some bodily ailments, so possibly this is what has lead to the diagnostic test, not that it is the heart directly. However whatever effects the organs of the body, will surely reflect on the heart, so it all makes sense.

C’ya

Night Sky

Two more storms last night, more rubber shoes for Elizabeth! ~





This is a picture after the storm, moving away.

C'ya

Zap Bang Wallop

Crack! Boom!

“That’s it!” Elizabeth exclaimed and heads for the closet. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Putting on my sandals. I hate thunderstorms.” I look at her feet, “And the sandals will protect you?” “Yes, the rubber soles could save my life. You should put yours on.” Well no, a doubtful expression on my face.

I realize Elizabeth has had more than her fair share of close climate encounters and once lived in a place that was hit several times by lightning. I feel we are pretty safe here though.
She’s eyeing the maple tree outside. I know the bathroom and kitchen are off limits for now. Sigh.

“You know that’s a myth, about the rubber soles?”

“Yes, my sandals will not prevent me from being hit by lightning. But, years ago a neighbor of mine was struck. The lightning came through the kitchen sink faucet from the lake and he had his hand on the counter. It shot up his arm, down his whole body to his running shoe. Huge scar.
The hospital said the rubber sole shoe saved him. Probably sleeps in them now. So, myth or not, these sandals give me comfort and I’m not taking any chances. You shouldn’t either. Damn! I hate thunderstorms.”

(At least she is in an awareness state of mind because of her belief I thought.)

***

Elizabeth was beginning to remind me of my Mom. When I was young we used to have a small add on to the kitchen in the old house. Often we would put our bikes in there, especially if it was storming. When the thunder and lightning came, my mother would run out and put towels over the handle bars. I’m convinced she thought she was hiding the metal from nature and the storm.

I watch my wife as she changes the placemats on the dining room table. “Are those the non-conductive mats, Honey?” Big smiles right across my face!

Uh oh, Makes a beeline for the door!

C’ya

It just goes to show

A number of years ago I was living in a second floor apartment, then I finally got the opportunity to move to the ground floor. Have you ever experienced the difficulty of doing a move when your health is impaired? So I needed help.

Anyway I asked around if anyone could recommend a mover and I got these guys. I was never so impressed in my life at the job they did for me on that occasion. They were so thorough and affordable I would recommend them to anyone. On the upstairs move they even placed everything in exactly the same position downstairs, that the object had previously occupied, including a bag of garbage that I had set to one side, now that is thorough.

***
Going to a different area, the move this time definitely required the movers and a truck. Isn’t it amazing just how much stuff one acquires in a short time.

Below is an email the wife sent to her friend for it says it all, boy were they having a chuckle!

“Hi,
Just got the computers set up and we're back online....:)....Wow....what a week.....

Eric's physiotherapist was able to help me last Wednesday morning for 3 hours and between the 2 of us, we filled her van twice and our truck and took the computers and fragile stuff over to the new apt. Initially we were a bit concerned about the movers because they said there was no top on their truck (they had tarps) but fortunately it was a sunny day.
Eric had used them before for moving from an upstairs apt. to downstairs. They arrived at noon.

I smiled when I saw their truck, said to Eric, who was still indoors at the time, 'You're going to love this'. LOL





Talk about a redneck truck!



The guys worked extremely hard for the next 3 hours...they had blankets and tie-downs and were more careful and efficient than any movers I've ever seen....absolutely wonderful. Cost.....$200. We had gotten prices previously of $400 from other movers.

Been pacing ourselves with the unpacking....perhaps 1/2 unpacked....Eric is getting his exercise walking from the east wing to the west wing.. This place is so huge!....LOL:) “

Just goes to show, it’s that the job got done. ~ Never mind the how!

C’ya

A New Start

Well it seems like I have dallied long enough. With that in mind, I thought it would be a good idea to make a new start, including the banner. As you can see I have reverted back to my other banner which depicts where we now live, and along with that a few pictures to share.

This park which is adjacent to Fairy lake, is right across the street from where we now live. We now have a place to go for walks and beautiful scenery right on the doorstep, what more could one ask. (clickable thumbnails)



A nice variation on tree colors on our street.



A shot of Fairy lake.



A very nice memorial park setting.



A similar memorial setting.



Now where would we be without some Canada geese!

C'ya

Quietly Sad

Today I am a little sad, and I think it’s time to slow the train down a little.

This month has been a whale of a time with so many things going on. The pace has been enough to take ones breath away, that’s quite a mouthful coming from someone with COPD.

For us personally, we had our move to our new place to live, a move that wasn’t lacking in it’s pressures. It has however also brought already so many pleasures.

Last week though, Elizabeth had to go in and do some nuclear stress tests for the heart, which was not easy. We are still hard at it getting sorted out, meantime real life carries on.

Today the weather decided to add to the burden, we reached temperatures of 28c with the humidex taking us up to a balmy 34c, a very uncomfortable setting when trying to get some sleep.

Tonight I paid a visit to “The Shameless writing circle“, of which I am a member. I was dumbfounded to read that Seamus is closing his blog down and moving on to other things in life. This is such a terrible loss and is already felt by many who have enjoyed all that has transpired within the circle. I for one always found it such an excellent blog to visit and always came away having learned something new.
I know a number of you go to the writing circle, so will be able to read for yourselves.

I am going to miss Seamus and his presentations and sincerely hope he will at least leave everything in place for others to go along and enjoy. I will keep my Lion and think of Seamus each time I log in here.

C'ya

Rip Van Winkle

Well it’s been a long time since I was able to get in here and post anything. I never thought that the simple task of moving would upset the applecart this much.

Having not put pen to paper in so long is much like being lost in a maze. I now know what it feels like to have done a Rip van winkle, for it sure seems almost that long.

When I first thought about what to write on coming back, all kinds of stuff came to mind about the move, amongst which were a couple of funny items. Then real life things started to snowball and ideas vanished into the mist of time before I had the energy to make notes on anything. As a consequence things don’t always seem quite as funny the second time around.

This last month has been such a full slate but hopefully, things are on the up from here on. ~ This is not much of a new post back, but it is a start and I will leave you with the thoughts of better things to come shortly. I thank all who have kept an eye out for me, I will try and be here more frequently from now on. I just hope the pen will wake up.

C’ya

Good Moves

Just got back online though I’m still waiting for my head to catch up. Sure missed you all and many thanks to those who kept checking in and offering encouragement through the turmoil. It will take a few days however, to get the old pen warmed up and ready to roll, bear with me.

Moving on

When we leave ~ this place
we once called home,
It will be with a bitter taste.
Even though, a long time ago,
some times were good.

Good memories though, we will retain,
Those of the birds, the wildlife,
The folks, no longer with us.
Pleasant thoughts and dreams. ~
Yet, ~ even those will fade in time.

Eric Valentine Mar 25/08

Update

Just a quickie. The move is almost on us with just eleven days to go ~ so far so good, things are looking very bright from where we sit right now.

A couple of weeks ago it was Moms birthday, 82 years young, she's still man hunting! ~ I penned a few words to celebrate the occasion.
**
Mom!

Some say their Mom is the worlds best,
Even better than all the rest.
But that’s not true for as you see
You’re the tops in our house,
Shush! don’t tell, ~ you’re privy
For that‘s between, just you and me.

Eric Valentine Mar 27/08 ©

Overload

Recently my health has taken a bit of a plunge as I went through a rough period. When things like this happen it always makes things more difficult for Elizabeth. With so much ongoing with neighbors, at times our patience wears a bit thin. It’s easy to get down in the dumps over minor setbacks.

As if things weren’t tough enough, a week ago Elizabeth, who has an existing heart condition, had an attack of arrhythmia which put her into the hospital. I even had to get a friend to drive her in for I was having trouble breathing, and couldn’t get ready fast enough. The last time this happened I was in better shape and able to get her to the hospital in a hurry.


After a while I got the call that they would be keeping her in at least overnight.

That’s when I blew it and I got angry at God! I doubt what I had to say would qualify as a prayer, but who knows.

I guess when we are struggling with a full plate, inevitably it will overflow and that overload is what set me off. I can’t recall whether I was more upset or just plain angry, probably both. I sat by the phone after the call feeling very alone and really scared. First I was scared for I was worried sick about Elizabeth. I also didn’t know yet how serious this attack would work out to be.

I think that for the first time, the reality of how precarious and vulnerable our position is, really struck home. Here we were, Elizabeth having an attack and I was too incapacitated to help her! The enormity of the dangerous possibilities washed over me like a tidal wave and I wanted to be sick.

I sat there with my head in my hands, tears rolling down my cheeks. Then I spoke out loud, to God I guess. I accused him of not being fair, “Don’t you think we have enough to deal with, with my having COPD! It’s very unfair that you do this to Elizabeth. We did nothing to deserve this kind of treatment! She works very hard to stay in good health, especially because of my health problem and then you strike her with this low blow, it’s just not right! Do you even listen when someone calls for your help? We need your help and your blessing, not be driven into the ground.”

I guess at some point I sat upright and realized what I had done and I was ashamed of myself. “I am sorry God for talking this way, I know there is so much work for you to do, but I never asked you for anything before until now, please help us.”

The next morning after much pleading on her part, the heart specialist let Elizabeth come home. It was such a relief to be together again.

Later on that day, we received a phone call. We have a new apartment to go to, our moving date is May 1st! We have been on a waiting list for two years! ~

I sat there very silent as I recalled my ranting of the previous night. I thought of God, and suddenly I felt quite humble. Whether it is just coincidence or not, we will never know. Right now I’m not saying too much.

Footnote: To say we are very busy right now would be an understatement. My absence in posting makes this obvious. Things are afoot. We are moving!

Over the next little while I won’t be around very much, too much packing and dismantling everything, too little time for a while. Will try to make it when able, meanwhile see you on a bright sunny day in May.


C’ya folks! ;)

A Golden Glow

One should never go shopping on a Saturday. Regardless, we went. To make matters worse, the wife was looking for specific items, has been now for weeks. After three hours of dragging our butt from pillar to post, the stomach starts to complain. It’s been a real zoo out here today so where to eat? Not being too proud by nature, we pulled into the nearest McDonalds.

We stumbled in through the door. Boy, I’ve never seen a McDonalds this small before, or so busy. I’m using my walker because of the oxygen tank, so with the crowd it was difficult to maneuver a path to a booth. Finally I am able to settle down. On looking up I see a baby one booth over in a high chair, staring at me. Babies always seem to do that, don’t they. I guess he was about nine months old.

Elizabeth checked to make sure I was seated ok and then went to line up for our food. The baby meanwhile, continued to eyeball me. Each time he screwed up his face to squawk, this mechanical hand reached out of the booth and fed him. I found it quite comical to watch this less than a year old child, already giving his parents the gears to get what he wanted. I shook my head, there’s just no hope.

While all this had been going on with the baby performance, I couldn’t help but notice a group sat at the tables in the corner to my right. The group consisted of a mother, two boys and a girl. The woman looked to be Asian. The boys looked about five and eight, the girl would be around nine or ten. The mothers face with large almond eyes was time worn. Grey pallor skin reflected a hard led life, to this point at least. She was probably no older than her late twenties, maybe thirty, judging by the ages of the kids. She was dressed most modestly as were the children, quite clean in appearance, yet nevertheless poor by most standards.

I tried not to appear too nosey while I waited for the wife to get back, but I couldn’t help casting a glance unobtrusively first at the baby, then over to the mother and three young kids in corner.

Meanwhile, up at the counter around the corner, where Elizabeth was waiting to get served, you could imagine the noise with all the other kids, the place being so busy. Loud kids, yelling and demanding, “I want this” and “I am going to get that. No that isn’t the toy I want, I want this one!”

All the time the kids at my end of McDonalds were so well mannered and quiet for their mother. They sat there silently, each of them holding just a McFlurry dessert and a plastic spoon.

For herself the mother had an ice cream sundae and a small package of French fries. I watched discreetly, somewhat amazed as the woman doled out two fries to each of the kids, then one to herself. Again she made the rounds with the fries, then she took a taste of her sundae, watching each child in turn and giving them all such a warm sweet smile. Once again she made the rounds with the fries. I never saw so many fries come out of such a small package before. Five fish and two loaves of bread crossed my mind. After the fries were finished she then took her spoon and fed some of her sundae to each child in turn. Not once was there a sound of protest or argument over what was going on.

It was a treat just to sit and see this little miracle taking place. When I looked at the woman she sat there looking as proud as any mother should look, and be dammed to the world looking on.

Once in a while during my life I have seen that proud look before, someone obviously in need but too proud to seek a handout. I sat and watched all this taking place and felt a little guilty when my big Mac and medium fries arrived complete with a chocolate milk drink. I would have willingly put a twenty dollar bill in her hand to help out, but I didn’t want her to think the wrong thing or get my face slapped.

We finished our meal and left to head home. Earlier I had been thinking what a wasted day out, milling around in the zoo of people and coming home empty handed.

One stop in McDonalds changed all that very quickly. What a treat we had been given. What a lesson in human dignity, where being poor didn’t make one hell of a difference to the woman and three kids.

My faith in the future of humanity had just been given a much needed shot in the arm, two fries at a time.

C’ya

Deja Vu

Elizabeth encountered an incident earlier this week, this moved her sufficiently to want to write something about it. This is her story.

Remember Bob

He shook my hand firmly, holding it tight. Then he wouldn’t let go. This was my first impression that something was wrong. His blue eyes stared at me intently and I got a little uncomfortable. He was a good foot taller and perhaps a 100 pounds more. What did he want? I panicked a little. Let go of my hand, I pleaded mentally. Which finally, he did.

“Nice to meet you Bob,” I stammered. Quickly I grabbed the door handle to my new home and disappeared into the apartment. “Eric! ERIC!!” I had been here less than 24 hours and already something seemed wrong.

Bob is our neighbor. He lives alone. Eric has known him for a little time and proceeded to tell me that Bob has Alzheimers. This is more noticeable when you study him a little. With time, we have become accustomed to his routine; Price is Right from 11 to noon, then he’s promptly out the door for his daily walk through town. Bob cuts a very striking figure, quite tall with a shock of the whitest hair. When he walks his hands are clasped behind his back, and an ever increasing stoop. He waves and smiles at strangers. Bob is a harmless creature as he putters along, inquisitively looking in through store windows.

Once in a while, he pops into the local hotel for a beer. Sometimes, we would see him doing what Eric has termed his chicken dance on the street. He is a happy go lucky guy, a real character. I wish I could dance with such abandon. On two occasions that I know of, Bob returned home with a black eye and a couple of cuts to his face. Who would do such a thing to this innocent man?

Bob has a family, but you would hardly know it. They give him a dutiful gift on his birthday, also at Christmas. It ends there. Even so, he doesn’t seem lonely. He has his daily walks and the people on the street.

3 years ago I was filling out Christmas cards and had some left over. I filled one out for Bob and put it under his door. He told the whole building that he got a card. He was so happy. Our neighbors let us know. He never said a word to us. This has become a tradition now. When we move, Bob will always get a Christmas card.

**

I was in one of the local confectionaries yesterday getting a couple of lottery tickets. The cashier suddenly stiffened and said, “Oh, that guy always gives me the creeps.” I looked at her quizzically and she motioned to the window. Bob was looking in, and then he left.

“Oh no, no, no”, I said. “That’s Bob. He has Alzheimer’s. He’s harmless.”

She stared at me. Relieved, she said, “Thank you so much for telling me. Now it makes sense. Thank you.”

I remembered the first time I shook hands with Bob, now this cashier getting upset. It occurred to me, how many others?
Just how many Bobs are out there suffering Alzheimer’s, giving people the wrong impression? Even more, how many of us recognize it for what it is?

C'ya

Speechless!

I'm fresh out of words. This was today at 5pm. Is there no end.. Grrrr

C'ya

Chocolate Treasure

My first clue should have been when I saw her eating powdered chocolate off a teaspoon. The wife likes to start her day with a hot chocolate, her morning routine also includes a taste or more, while she waits for the kettle to boil. Myself, my world doesn’t start to turn until I have my cup of tea and I would never suck on the teabag whilst I was waiting!

Strange trends people have in order to get their day going.

Thinking of chocolate, isn’t it funny how peoples tastes change over the years. I can distinctly remember loving milk chocolate most of my life. The one exception of course being my love of “Black Magic” chocolates. Then as I got older my tastes leaned even more to darker chocolate, eventually I made the switch complete, now milk chocolate was too sweet and sickly for my taste buds. Even later I started to get selective as to what kind of dark chocolate I preferred. The best in my mind is “Belgian dark chocolate” beyond any doubt. There is something about the taste of Belgian chocolate, that really makes one slow right down and savior every small morsel. I used to buy bars of imported Belgian a dozen at a time, whenever the store had them in. One day for some inexplicable reason the store stopped selling them. To say I was upset about that is putting it mildly. Shortly afterwards, Black Magic disappeared from the store shelves, my misery was complete!

In my younger days after finishing school, I applied for a job as a candy maker. During the interview, the boss asked me the strangest thing I thought. He said ”Let me see your hands,” that’s when he told me I had candy makers hands. I was young and impressionable, so was pleased with what he said even if I didn’t understand the reasoning. I stayed a candy maker for five years. In that time I got to learn from some of the best in the business. John Grensevic (sp) was my first tutor. He used to formulate the varying flavors of candies, recognizing that there was a difference in tastes from European and those of North America, which still exists today.

**
Elizabeth sat down, I could see she was munching something.
“I hope you don’t mind, I had a piece of chocolate.”
“From the fridge?” I asked, for I kept more than one brand in there.
“Yes” said she, a smile lighting her face, a mischievous look in her eye.
“Not the Belgian chocolate I hope,”
“Uh oh” she uttered.
I went to the fridge to check the damage. I tried to explain that I wasn’t a chocolate hog, except I could no longer get any more of that Belgian kind anymore.
Nowadays I eat Aero bars, dark chocolate of course and the wife is a confirmed chocoholic, so much for my stash!


There is just one piece of “Holy Grail” left to me that she is not keen on, and that doesn’t last an hour when I have one.
My all time favorite is imported from England. Fry’s Cream is dark chocolate with a mint fondant filling, simply scrumptious.

So I know it is Easter, and the hunt is on! But never mind giving me an egg, I will enjoy my Fry’s Cream and Aero bars!

Elizabeth just came home from the grocery store. Her purchases included six containers of Nestle triple chocolate Sundae!

I rest my case…. Happy Easter everyone!

Footnote: All chocolate tastes better after being in the fridge a short time ~ trust me.

C’ya

The McGonagle

A St. Patrick’s Day Fairytale

The greenhouse was suddenly illuminated by consecutive flashes of lightening. An ominous roll of thunder followed, almost jolting the tray out of the hands of the leprechaun. Carefully he made his way from the bench, in the pouring rain, taking the precious cargo inside. While the thunderstorm raged outdoors, he gently went about his task. Gradually the storm passes and like he, fades into the night.
***
She sat there gazing around the room. It wasn’t a bad room really, of course if you wanted more light and sunshine you had to lean over a little. Looking over at the books on the shelf unit, she wished she could read. Instead, all she ever did was sit here and have the occasional drink of water.

In addition to not being able to read, she couldn’t walk either and didn‘t even have a proper name. You see she was not a human, but just a simple little tree plant sitting in a nice blue pot on a coffee table.

Often she pined for another plant to talk to when human’s weren’t about, but these humans were so busy with their life, that thought never occurred to them. It was in those moments that she would get a little sad and it might be imagined, shed a small tear perhaps.
**
It was at one such moment, when McGonagle the Leprechaun appeared on the scene. “Don’t cry little one, don’t you remember what I said to you when you were just a small seed?” Tree plant waved her leaves a little, thinking that she understood what the wee man was saying.
He refreshed her memory by carrying on, “Remember when you and all the other little seeds were laid out in my tray?”

“We little people have special powers, just in case you didn’t know. At certain times of the year like St Patrick’s Day, we are always around even though the big people don’t see or hear us, how else would we ever get anything done. We little people also like to talk and can get carried away a little I might add, but that’s beside the point.”

“Now where were we. Hmmmm Yes the tray! Didn’t I tell ye that I would take the tray to a special place and the magic rain would fall down on you?”
Tree plant mumbled something, tailing off. Not hearing her he carried on, “At that time I told you too that the magic rain would fall on you, giving you the power to make a wish. You would be able to wish and grow into whatever your little heart desired! But choose wisely I said.”

“But, but”, Tree plant stammered, wondering at the same time if any of this was real. Was this really happening?

**
Often she had sat there and mused over where she had come from, and why a tree plant? Vaguely she could recall a sense of being, and occasionally hearing voices. Wishing at that point, to be like one of those talking people even though she had not yet seen a human. The ladies as she found out later, sounded very nice and so interested in how the plants were coming along. Yes! She wanted to be one of them!
**
All this had seemed strange to the tree plant for she could not envision anything at that point yet. The tree plant had felt and sensed things, although everything around her was dark, even moist and wet. It was only after that gestation period that she finally emerged one day from the dark into a brilliant light and her small green shoot poked out of the soil.

Frequently, she was put out in the rain in the nice blue pot she lived in now, rain was so good for her growth. Since then she had been moved staying with different people, until one day she arrived here, where she lives now.
**
Looking at the Leprechaun, tree plant, now over the shock of meeting him, finally found her voice. “Mr wee man,” “Yes me darling” The McGonagle said, “what seems to be troubling you, that brings you to tears and so sad too?”

“Well Mr wee man”

“McGonagle!, me name’s McGonagle!” the Leprechaun exclaimed.

“Mr McGonagle” said tree plant, “What I’d like to know is, why didn’t I get my wish that you said I could make, because of the magic rain falling on me?”

“But you did!” retorted the leprechaun, a big smile all over his face. You see he was delighted that tree plant had finally found her voice and was talking to him. Tree plant shook her leaves, trying to understand what McGonagle had just said.
“But I didn’t, for I wished to be like the human lady, instead here I am a tree plant stuck in a blue pot! I don’t even have a name,” her indignant leaves jumping around quite vigorously.

“There, there“, McGonagle said, “I will try to explain some more” the leprechaun squirmed a little trying to think how he was to handle this. “Remember when I said you could wish to be whatever you want? Mmmm. Well that’s not quite exactly what was meant, young lady. You have to remember that you were a seed and seeds grow into plants or flowers hmmm, all them other things that seeds grow into.”
“So what was really meant was you could choose what kind of plant or flower you would grow into.” This was getting kind of complicated he could see.

“So when you wished to be like one of them I believe you said, then that’s how you did grow, a tree plant but having grown with the shape of a woman, you can see that if you look in a mirror. After all, humans come from a different place.”

Tree plant felt sadness and disappointment at the news, it showed in the tremor in her voice. The leprechaun was right of course, and the way he explained it, how could she have thought otherwise? Now tree plant finally understood, I mean how can a seed grow into a human? Their seeds are different altogether.

“Oh”, tree plant uttered sadly “ Now I think I understand, but you still said anything” McGonagle squirmed a little more, “I really am sorry for misleading you tree plant” he said. “ I dare say we leprechauns do exaggerate and don’t always tell the whole truth of things.” Tree plant shook again and gasped! McGonagle quickly continued, “But you are the prettiest tree plant that I have ever seen, you are in fact, unique! Because you are so special it occurred to me that your name should be something that has meaning. So I will call you Aislinn! The name is actually a Gaelic word that means dream or vision. As legend has it, it is also a poem about Ireland represented as a beautiful girl in peril. How does that sound?”

Now tree plant was really trembling, this time with excitement. Just fancy a name! Aislinn. She liked the sound of that. “Oh thank you, thank you Mr McGonagle, that is wonderful, now I am happy again”. The Leprechaun smiled in relief, whew! I’m glad that’s resolved, he thought, leaning back and drawing on his pipe.

“As a special surprise for you Aislinn, I think you are going to have some company fairly soon.” Then with a twitch of his nose, a little green shoot popped out of the soil, quite close to Aislinn! The tree plant squealed in delight. Aislinn was so happy to have company and would never be alone again.

Eric Valentine March 14/08 ©

C'ya

Waning Days

Just a reminder of the aftermath of the storm we had last Saturday.

A couple of days ago we had a very hard frost, providing for some good shots. It was interesting to notice the stars in the skies above the trees. ~ These then are we hope the last waning days of winter, temps today are now up to the plus 5/6 side, can't argue with that. Have a great weekend everyone. (clickable thumbnails)



A shot of the frost covered trees, notice the 'Big Dipper' over the trees


Somewhere under the snow, is my parking spot! No! That is not a 'Johnny on the Spot!' Just the outdoor storage.



Interesting tree frost shot.

C'ya