It Was a Dark and Stormy….Day?


Storm 12

There was a huge Canadian flag attached to this pole prior to the storm

On Saturday I decided to be a rebel and sleep in until 6:30 AM rather than arise at the customary time of 6:00 AM.  I could always shower up later in the day.  Still I found myself pondering when I could actually sleep in to my typical 7:00 – 7:30 AM on Saturday mornings.

I’ve had my physio sessions booked early forever it seems at 7:15 AM on Saturdays.  My back is improving.  I still have pain when I walk…just not as much.  I’ve adopted a new way to walk as well,  so prescribed by Physio John.

For 1 1/2 hours he worked on me.  First he does acupressure, then has me do exercises that are isolated to a certain areas then comes the acupuncture.

I’m now on a first name basis with a few other patients who come at the same time every week as well and we stood chatting for a bit while setting up our next appointment.

My daughter lives close by and she had invited me for breakfast after my session so I headed down the hill to her home.

The rain had let up and the clouds were roiling through the sky at a rapid pace.  I found it beautiful and very powerful.

LOnsdale & Esplande.

My daughter and I had walked past this very intersection just a few hours before this carnage occurred!

I had woken to the sound of heavy rainfall and for a few minutes I had just laid there listening to it delighting in the breeze coming through my bedroom window and the scent of wet earth!

We’ve had a brutally hot and dry summer.  The rain falling outside was a blessing and then some.  I could just imagine all the trees and brush outside hungering for that rain that now cascaded upon them in abundance.

After breakfast I suggest we go for a walk.  She lives in North Vancouver very close to the Quay so we headed over there with the  both of us delighting in the breeze coming off the ocean.

Upon arriving back her place I took my leave.  I had much I wanted to get done in my corner of the world.

storm 14

Repairs are still ongoing in my building.  My unit still has not been done, but that’s okay.  It will.  I have to pick out the paint I want and I’ve requested that the entire place get painted.  Still waiting to hear back from Sean on the additional cost for this.  I’ve decided to do a huge purge of things though.  So this weekend would mark the beginning of the process.  Get the place cleaned up and then tackle the closets that are still in use.  My utility closet is still not usable as the walls are still exposed.

On the drive home I began to wax poetic about the weather and decided to post a blog about it.  Then I began to notice how much the wind was picking up.  Some empty boxes flew off a truck onto the highway and leaves and branches were beginning to litter the highway.

New West Storm 1

New West over by the Justice Institute

Leaves were swirling about like mini tornados.  Trees were taking on the familiar sway that occurs when a storm is brewing.  It’s been a very long time since increment weather of this nature has hit the coast.

Storm 5

On Austin at Gatenbury in Coquitlam

I turned off the highway and as I entered the final stretch to home I reduced my speed to about 20 km.  Leaves and branches were flying off the trees and the roadway was littered with them.

Storm 4

More highway debris

Arriving home I called my daughter and she expressed how the wind had really picked up out her way as well.

I began scheduling what I would be doing this day around my home.

Deciding to check my email first, I would then tackle my bedroom closet,

I didn’t make it through checking my email before the power kicked out.

My power was out for seven hours yesterday.  Approximately 400,000 households were affected.   There are still about 130,000 households still without power.

Storm 7Storm 8

One of the trains was hit by branches snapping off.  This created quite the delay for comuters.

We’ve had no decent rainfall for months.  Even though it has rained heavily for the last couple of days, it was not enough for many of the trees that were bone dry and just snapped like twigs in this onslaught.

I found myself reflecting on the fact of just how dependent we’ve become on technology in this electronic age.  I could not even leave my car park as the gate is remote operated and very much electrically dependent.  I do know there is a manual way by which to open these gates so this is a bit of knowledge I will pursue.  We do have a generator that kicked in for emergency lighting and I found myself wondering why the parkade gate was not included with the emergency power source.

Storm 3

Storm 2

Bangs and crashes could be heard followed by sirens in the distance.

I did a few things by candlelight but truth be told the silence was rather daunting.  Outside the winds howled for hours and the rain came and went in torrents.  The sun made a brief appearance and I discovered the Safeway some four blocks from my home was open so I ventured over there and picked up some batteries and grabbed a bite to eat.

Downtown Vancouver Storm 1

Downtown Vancouver at Hornby & Nelson Street

Even having a charged up laptop was rather useless as there were no networks available to go online and try to get information.  BC Hydro’s website was down and trying to get through by phone?  Good luck.

I at least had the radio on and felt connected.  And that’s what it came down to.  For a very brief moment I felt removed and cutoff from the world around me.  Furthermore I could not find out what was going on.   My cell phone provided a bit of info, however, the battery on that was running low as well.

Storm 15

Four hours into this event I curled up on my sofa and watched the remainder of the storm unfold.  Candles were lit, the radio was on and I was safe.

There are still many without power.  My friend will likely have to toss all the food in her fridge but at least she is safe with her family and that’s what matters.

Peace.

 

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Just One Question…


Pride 2015 004

A couple of colourful Queens from last week’s Pride Celebration in Vancouver!

After toddling through my domestic duties I got out and about for a walk.

It is Gay Pride Week here in New Westminster.  Local business’ are having a competition for the best window display.

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This is where I was training prior to the car accident.  Tamer has done a fabulous job!  Love it!

I grabbed my camera and photographed the many displays on hand.

At times the pain in my back kicked in so I would just rest up for a bit before carrying on.  I’m committed now. I must keep moving, working through this if I ever want to get the life I had back or parts of it.

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It would be fabulous to be able to just go for a walk and not end up in pain by the time I get back home.

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The book store that is selling copies of my book!

I’ve been working on a series of blogs posts that I will present shortly based on the up coming elections.  We have a federal election coming up on October 19, 2015 here in Canada and south of the border they are ramping up for their election next year as well.

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I stopped a Greek restaurant for dinner then made my way home.

And I wonder why it is that some people find it unacceptable and intolerable that two people of the same sex love each other.

Pride 2015 006

Moxies on Davie St.  The party was on!

Love is and always will be the best thing anyone can experience.

I’ve lived my life very much alone.  Yes, I’ve raised a daughter, a beautiful and wonderful woman.  Yes, I have friends that I love beyond all else.

Pride 2015 020

But I never got the man and woman relationship down.  I let the scars from my youth unfortunately get in the way.

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And in my mind, if you find the love of your life then you are blessed.  Cherish it and hold it close.  Never, ever take it for granted.

Peace out!

 

 

 

Imagine….


 

I rose early this morning.  It is not quite 10:30 AM and I have all my domestic duties done.  It has at times been a struggle.  I am now 16 weeks into the whole ‘no hot water’ debacle here at home.  The challenge of bathing and cleaning and adopting the guise of water bearer, and one with a bad back at that, has been tough.  Home hasn’t felt quite so homey.  The end is now in sight.  June 12th, 2015 marks the completion date for the re-piping of the building.

My anger peaked around six weeks ago.  You may recall the rant I offered up on this forum which was a little on the melodramatic side. 🙂

The biggest issue has been the lack of communication.  All we;ve seen are posts of when they’ll need access to certain suites wallpapered on doors as the walls and ceilings in the hallways are now exposed.

Just one progress report was forthcoming after my rant.  Why they can’t take the time to write and post a short paragraph weekly and upload it to our building’s website or to our property manager is beyond me.

Had they done this I don’t believe the tempers would have flared the way they have.

So I am still working on a rather intense post regarding time.   I’ve also joined Toastmasters and will be reading my first speech on this coming Tuesday.  I’m working on distribution for the book still, working me arse off and will be entering physical rehab with a kinesiolgist.  Hopefully this will be the final hurdle to help me regain the level health I enjoyed two years ago.

peace 3

I just want to feel good.

I’ve given myself the challenge of writing a poem everyday for the next thirty days.  Just thought it might be a fun thing to do.  If at day fifteen I’ve become a mad woman, obsessed and manic…

No, wait a moment…I already am.

I’m being silly.  I have been out taking a few photos so I thought I would share those with you on this beautiful Sunday morning.

Enjoy!

This first series was taken a week ago down at False Creek South in the Science World and Athletes Village portion.  Major construction has been underway in this area over the last five years converting this former industrial wasteland into a vibrant community.

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Talk about a beautiful evening sky.  Downtown Vancouver and BC Place can be seen silhouetted below

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BC Place now has a remarkable retractable roof though it often reminds me of a spaceship and the iconic Woodwards ‘W’ once a beacon in Vancouver.

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Science World at dusk

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Science World as the sun sets

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Spacey looking walkways and giant birds!

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Canada Geese goslings.  Too cute!  The Vancouver Salt Building is now home to CRAFT a gastro pub.  False Creek has been home to many breweries over the years.  There is now an explosion of micro-breweries in this area.  From Molson’s, Granville Island Brewery, Steel Toad, Red Truck, Craft and the Flying Pig just to name a few.

And yes, we make damn good beer!

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Looking westward along False Creek South.  Downtown Vancouver rises in the background.

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Lighting features that compliment some to the buildings’ cosmetic makeup in the area.  Geese having a early evening bath.

I am in desperate need of decent tripod.  I had purchased what I thought was a pretty good one and it turned out to be sadly lacking.  This was a photo walk with my group titled ‘Dusk to Dark’.

Unfortunately, once night fell, without the benefit of a tripod I could not continue on.  Next time I’ll have a good one.

The next series found me going for a stroll along the river very close to my home.  Spring is in full swing as is evidenced by the florals and bees are busy as are ants!

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I just happened to be admiring the sky when this eagle happened to slip into my viewfinder.  And here a bee bumbling about.

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The Fraser River is really low at the moment.  We didn’t have much of a winter at all and while we’ve had some rain, we need more.

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Capturing images of ants and water droplets.

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Beautiful flowers that line the river’s boardwalk.

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The colours are exquisite this year!

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Baby ducklings swim where the coy fish usually are.  The fish weren’t poking about the surface but this little guy and lily pads were.

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The mighty muddy Fraser River.

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This is taken from the Quayside overpass looking east along Columbia Street which is the downtown core of New Westminster.

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They’ve covered this power utility box with historical images of the police force.  The center image is the Hyack Square which now is home to the ‘Wait For Me Daddy’ monument.

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Some images of the Anvil’s Centre’s angles.  Beautiful building.

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And this is at one end of the boardwalk on the Quay.  Now Downtown New West is indeed a short walk from here.  Metrotown, however, is a shopping mall in Burnaby!  It is NOT on the river at all and well it would be an incredibly long walk.  Not too sure why this sign was put up.

Below is a map.  It would take approximately two hours to walk their and the distance is 7 1/2 km.  A lot of hills on this walk as well.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this photo montage.  Have a great day.

https://ca.maps.yahoo.com/e/?lat=49.21417710832532&lon=-122.9610013961792&bb=49.23940103%2C-123.0264473%2C49.18894031%2C-122.8955555&o=1305%20Quayside%20Dr%2C%20New%20Westminster%2C%20BC%20V3M&d=4664%20Kingsway%2C%20Burnaby%2C%20BC%20V5H%204L9&mode=6

 

A History Lesson


 

 

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New Westminster back in the late 1700’s

I must admit sometimes I tend to get my head stuck in the clouds.  Lofty ideals and wishful thinking fill this head of mine and at times the translation of what’s in there can come out rather garbled.

I was thinking about the phrase ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”   It seems like a rather strange statement, doesn’t it?  Then again intentions can go south and sideways fast I suppose.

I’ve been refocusing my intentions and shifting them back to a level that is reasonable.  I guess you could say I’m removing the rose coloured glasses for the time being, and you now what?  The cold light of day can be pretty damn beautiful.  I guess it just depends upon your perspective and your state of mind.

This summer has found me ensconced in my orange room tapping out the final edit for the book and taking photos whenever I could.  I’ve at times been a little reflective as I pick up the pieces of this body and soul of mine in the aftermath of the cancer and subsequent treatment.

Lately I’ve been feeling like a lump on legs, but hey, I know the road back to good health will be tough but worth the work.  Last Saturday I hiked up Quarry Rock in Deep Cove over in North Vancouver.  Tough for sure, but man, you should have seen the view!

On Sunday the new civic centre in New Westminster had its grand opening.  It is known as the Anvil Centre and I must say, it is a great looking structure.  It houses a theatre, museum, archives, art gallery and much more.

The City of New Westminster is not a very large in terms of area.  The main road in the downtown core is known as Columbia Street.  It stretches about eight or nine blocks, then it turns into a busy cause way that will take you over to the Sapperton side of New West on one end and over to the Queensborough side on the other.

In any case they closed the downtown core of Columbia Street down on Sunday to celebrate the grand opening.  The one thing I’ve come to love about living here is that this little city celebrates a lot!

I grabbed my camera and headed out into a cloudless late summer afternoon to enjoy the festivities.  I took my time wandering down the street taking in the sights before heading into the building.  I’m sure half of the population of New West was in attendance.

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It’s truly a beautiful space.  On the third floor I got in line for the museum then made my way in.  Several volunteers came up and offered information freely.  I could use my camera, just not the flash.

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There was a strong aboriginal presence in the artifacts that have been preserved, as there should be.  I walked about taking the odd photograph and reading a few things.  Then I came to the midway point in the gallery.  I was quite impressed with what greeted me.  It was a scale model of the Patullo Bridge.

One of the volunteers came up and noted how impressive it was.  I concurred completely.  It is a magnificent structure.  He then told me the story of it.

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The model was built during the great depression by a young boy.  It took him approximately two years to build it.

His model won a competition at the PNE, which is our annual fair in Vancouver.  The boy was later awarded a scholarship and went on to be a life long learner.

And guess what?  That boy is still alive at 90 years of age he was at the Anvil Centre able to witness his creation being restored and being placed permanently on display.

Below is a new story from a local paper.  The article was written a few months before the opening.

What is remarkable about this story is simply the chain of events that occurred after he built this scale model and how it impacted his entire life.

I love stories like this.  And can you imagine winning a pair of shoes for your first model of an antenna?

It was a very different time and this man has witnessed all of it.  Enjoy!

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Jack Lubzinski peers through the superstructure of the scale model of the Pattullo Bridge he built when he was 13 years old. Now 90, he’s supervising the restoration of the model for permanent display at the new Anvil Centre.

— image credit: MARIO BARTEL/NEWSLEADER

There’s not a lot of love for the Pattullo Bridge these days.

But the venerable old crossing over the Fraser River that links New Westminster to Surrey helped put Jack Lubzinski through school, kept him out of the war and launched a lifelong interest in math and physics.

The Pattullo still had that new-bridge sheen when Lubzinski was first captivated by it. The Richmond schoolboy had just completed a scale model reproduction of a huge transmission antenna that had won him a pair of new shoes in a contest when one of his teachers challenged him that the antenna would be as monumental a project as he’d ever be able to achieve.

Lubzinski took the words to heart and spent the next 18 months designing and constructing a scale model of the Pattullo that would stretch more than seven metres long by the time he was done.

Now 90 years old, Lubzinski was a doting observer and sometime supervisor Wednesday as the giant model’s six sections were carefully moved from the basement of the New Westminster Museum and Archives where it had been gathering dust for decades. The grey wooden model will be restored and reassembled by conservator Shabnam Honarbakhsh with the help of funding from the Rotary Club of New Westminster for eventual display in a permanent exhibit at the new Anvil Centre.

Lubzinski smiles at the irony that his model may outlive the actual bridge, which is slated for replacement or rehabilitation by TransLink.

“If there’s a need for a new bridge, then I guess they’ll replace it,” said Lubzinski, matter of factly.

It’s that kind of pragmatic attitude that propelled him to build his model in the first place. The derisive words of his teacher ringing in his ears, it took him a week to whittle and assemble the pieces of B.C. cedar for the first girder. With hundreds more needed, Lubzinski devised a system that got production down to a couple of hours.

Working after school and on weekends in the kitchen and living room of his family’s home, Lubzinski gave painstaking attention to the bridge’s details, right down to the sequence of vertical bars in the outer guardrails.

When the model was finished, he took it apart in sections and transported it to his school, where it became a showpiece attraction in front of the office and a constant reminder to the teacher who dared question his abilities.

In 1940 Lubzinski presented it to the bridge’s namesake, premier Thomas (Duff) Pattullo.

The premier got him scholarship money to continue his studies and when the military called him to service, a judge intervened, ruling Lubzinski’s “place is in technology rather than in the army.”

Lubzinski earned a bachelor’s degree in physics in 1947 and a master’s in 1950. His thirst for knowledge not sated, he went on to take more than 360 university courses over the next 40 years, including every physics course at BCIT.

To pay the bills Lubzinski and his brother Joseph started Marine Products Company, manufacturing mahogany steering wheels for boats for more than 50 years before it closed in 2005.

He also founded the Lubzinski Center for Innovation in Point Roberts to further the study of quantum physics.

“That bridge changed my life,” said Lubzinski.

 

 

Jack Lubzinski and conservator Shabnam Honarbakhsh will be at the museum June 26-28, 2-3 p.m., to meet the public and talk about its construction and restoration. The New Westminster Museum and Archives is located at 302 Royal Ave.

 

 

 

Muscle


It is Saturday evening approximately 11:45 PM.  Close to the witching hour.  I had a low key day.  Got up and did some work on my current chapter.  I managed to attain my 1,600 some odd required words for the NaNoWriMo thing, however, I don’t believe I will reach the said goal of 50,000 words, but we’ll see what happens.

I went for Dim Sum late this afternoon.  Once back at the homestead, I made a few phone calls and watched the hockey game.  We were getting massacred.  I had to turn it off.  A bit hungry, I decided to pop down to Boston Pizza for a little nibble.

It was just coming up on 10:00 PM.

The service was just fine as it typically is.  Then the invasion occurred.  Seriously, I have never witnessed anything of this nature before.  This restaurant can easily seat 500 people.  It is a big place.

This time of night on a Saturday and usually it is only 1/3 full, if that.

I am guessing there was a body builder competition or show happening today somewhere in New Westminster, because several hundred of them suddenly began streaming into the restaurant.

I could only watch in absolute awe as the restaurant was invaded.  Many had trophies in hand along with cameras.  Each group that came in consisted of 10, 15 or 20.  Each group had a distinctive look, as though they should be in a particular category of the competition.

I had brought my laptop to continue working on my chapter.  I found myself quickly distracted by the muscle that was moving about the restaurant.  The normal folk, such as myself, stared helplessly as they continued to stream in.

I had not seen my server in a good half hour and when I did, she didn’t look my way…just ran about delivering drinks, then spent a good twenty minutes delivering food to a group of about 30 body builders.

I know what its like to get slammed in restaurant.  I’ve done this job many times, the most recent turn was just four years ago.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a slam of this nature though.

I continued to work on my chapter.  Here I am in the middle of this strange invasion writing a hot sex scene.  I was looking at the muscled bodies that surrounded me trying to decide if I personally found them appealing.

Not so much.

Some, yes, not too bad…other just scarily muscled.  Several women came in, what category they were entered into, I am not certain, but shit, they were big, buff and frighteningly something.

The normal folk stared in disbelief, somewhat intimidated that the staff could no longer attend to their needs quite so fast, if at all.

The restaurant was now full to capacity…the waiting area was packed, and they locked the front door.  The team pulled together spitting out drinks, food and everything else the masses had requested.

I would nab one of them from time to time to bring me a brew then continued writing.

I was trying to wrap my head in this hot sexual interplay with my characters.  It wasn’t working.  I got up to a tough and rumble sexual interplay that involved a lemon infused dessert that the male character had created and doused himself in to be consumed by the female.  She had just begun to perform an animalistic blow job on the male character, and well…I had to stop.

Crashes and loud outbursts of cheers invaded my thought pattern repeatedly and my curiosity found me watching all that was unfolding around me.

They are all spray painted… a strange orange-brown colour.  Provocative cover-ups over sequined thongs that peeked out.  The men wearing tank tops…several of the women as well.  Trophies are held with obvious pride by several of them.

I decided then to just post about this experience.  The sex scene I was writing was becoming far too choppy and disorientated as a result of this strange distraction.

I had not expected this energy, so why not just write about it?

Bleached out hair and heavy makeup on the women. Many wearing heels of three to four inches.  Tight clothing to display their bulging striations.

I have recently researched the extreme diets these individuals pace themselves through.  Prior to a competition they will dehydrate their bodies so that the skin will become tight over their muscle to better define it.

Many attend tanning salons on a regular basis.  Also,they will spray on fake tans to further bring out the desired effects and oil up their body.

I found myself wondering what the appeal was in this particular look.  I have no doubt that training is absolutely grueling and painful.  Food is measured and consumed in a manic sense.

To be successful they must follow an incredibly strict diet to attain the look desired. Because there were so many and of various age groups, I began to notice the quality of the skin.

Up close, you see, beneath the make-up, beneath the presentation a rather rough and tough texture to the skin tone. This is true of both the men and women.

Now that the competition is over they came here and consumed carbs, fat, water, fluids, just plain ol’ food.

I guess what you have to understand is the toll this takes on the body.  Any extreme will affect the body and this is an extreme.

Body builders, fitness competitors and all those that fall in that realm spend hours each day in the gym.  Their workouts are manic to me.  I’ve met people in my gym who are extreme.

I suppose on my end, it is something to behold, something to wonder at.  I guess I don’t really understand it fully.  There is an odd punishment that the body must go through.  The objective of these sports is basically appearance driven.

Have your muscles properly proportioned and capable of popping out on demand in a uniform manner.  I don’t know.  I have watched these competitions on TV.  Not something I fully understand nor do I fully understand the rules of judging such events.

This evening I saw bodies of various sizes and shapes.  Some small, some large.  Cosmetically everything about them is extreme.  The mascara and eyeliner on the women.  The bleached out and various colours of the hair.

And as quickly as they all came, they inhaled their food and drink then left.  I watched the servers sigh in relief that it was over. This had not been expected.

It is now 1:00 AM.  I am finishing up and preparing to leave.  The masses have just disbursed. This oddity now recorded.

Reporting live, from Boston Pizza, November 10th, 2013…this is Nancy saying…good night and good health.

Organic Thought?


or·gan·ic

/ɔrˈgænɪk/ Show Spelled [awr-gan-ik] Show IPA\

adjective

1.noting or pertaining to a class of chemical compounds that formerly comprised only
those existing in or derived from plants or animals, but that now includes all other compounds of carbon.
2.characteristic of, pertaining to, or derived from living organisms: organic remains found in rocks.
3.of or pertaining to an organ or the organs of an animal, plant, or fungus.
4.of, pertaining to, or affecting living tissue: organic pathology.
5.Psychology . caused by neurochemical, neuroendocrinologic, structural, or other physical impairment or change: organic disorder.  Compare functional (  def 5 ) .

The word organic is bandied about quite a bit these days.  It infers a certain natural state without direct interference from a certain human race that we are all familiar with.

Stating that something is organic hints that the human touch has somehow been minimal or non-existent in its creation.  There is a certain purity that is implied with this particular adjective.

And so I got to thinking about organic thought and wondered if, in fact, such a thing existed.  Is not all thought organic? Or do the ideas and images that run through our grey matter in a multitude on any given day result from the stimuli of the world we find ourselves living in?

Would I know if the thought that I am having is in fact organic in nature or has it been influenced by all that surrounds me?  It is interesting to consider that thoughts can be manufactured and yet, as certain as I am of my own name, I know this has a truth to it.

But then again, whatever it is that is firing along the neuropathic highway in my head isn’t necessarily repeated in the same manner for someone else, is it?

I was looking at photos displayed in New Westminster today.  In our brief history I see images of time in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s that seem so far removed from the world we now inhabit.  Street cars and horses populated the roadways.  Brick buildings with grandiose facades lined such roadways and in this little city of mine, many of those buildings still stand.

Images of unsmiling men gazing studiously into the lens of the camera with a certain seriousness cause me to ponder what they were thinking about at that particular moment.  Was there a sense of wonder experienced at the world that was unfolding before them? Did all the advancements in technology that began to escalate at that time cause concern or excitement?

We never know what the future holds but the last 100 years have been unprecedented in terms of change.

Soon I will have to start referring to myself as an organic female.  I have not been enhanced with chemicals (i.e. Botox), I have not been nipped and tucked, nor have I had anything implanted.

Would it matter that I wear makeup?  Would I still be considered organic?

I do believe that thought is organic though.  Yes, it is influenced by the world that surrounds us, but what we do with the information that is absorbed individually on any given subject combines with previous experiences and ideas to form something that is uniquely our own.

We have artificial intelligence that can follow a prescribed thought pattern, yet we still have that beautiful capability of seeing or experiencing whatever we choose in an entirely new fashion.  The manner by which we live our lives changes continually with a restless energy.  Satisfaction with our station in life seems elusive at times.  And so we are continually creating and developing various options to make our lives better.

Yet with each  metamorphosis it seems our world becomes that much more complicated.  We can’t go back and it is foolish to consider this ideology.  So we move forward and hopefully we can begin to ask ourselves what we need and why we need it.  And perhaps it is simply a change of thought that will put us on track to seeing our way past this consumption of technology that we have been feasting on.

In any case, something to think about.

Enjoy your evening.

Sticky Fingers


It is Monday morning and my fingers are decidedly a little sticky from my fruit salad. I will jot down these thoughts then wash my little appendages.

They have been turning the elevator off in the evenings and on the weekend due to mechanical  issues and they don’t want someone getting stuck in them I suppose.  And so I walked up three flights of stairs and called the building superintendent, who funny enough,  always seems surprised that they aren’t working.  We will be having them replaced this summer.  It will be an arduous task no doubt and I am not sure if we will be walking up the stairs the entire time the repairs are being done.  There are some in my office that physically could not do this on a daily basis.

I had a really great weekend with only one little mishap.  Yesterday began with a fabulous walk around and through Queen’s Park in New Westminster.  I run through there all the time but upon waking yesterday to an absolutely gorgeous spring day, I opted to go for a walk.   Throwing  some clothes on off I went.  I made a rather interesting discovery in that they have goats and peacocks right next to the play area.

It is a park on quite a grand scale.  It houses an ice rink, a football field, tennis courts, a full-size baseball diamond and a soccer field.  As well there is beautiful rose garden with several horticultural projects in various parts of the park.  They also have a picnic area  and BBQ pits amidst an extensive children’s play area which also houses the goats and peacocks.

Of course they have pathways all throughout and stunningly beautiful forested areas.

I later did some shopping therapy with my daughter. The mishap occurred when I went to my sister’s to drop off her birthday gift.  She has a cat that needs to be neutered and I was petting him when he reared up, lunged and bit me.  He got me on the inside of my wrist and boy did that hurt.  So I have two puncture wounds that are making it a little difficult to use the rest while typing.  It was swollen for a little bit yesterday then it subsided.   I redressed it and now it is a little red.   Oye!

Still I do know that when a male cat is in heat you have to be careful where you touch them and how you touch them.  I think I will make it a policy to just not touch them in this state.  I have told my sister she needs to get the cat fixed.  Very seldom am I around an animal that has not been fixed.  I will mend quick enough though.

I got to thinking about simple pleasures this morning such as going for a walk.  It is something I see quite often in those around me.  An example is an amusing little event that happened last fall.  I was changing my toilet seat.  One of the bolts was stripped and I couldn’t get the damn thing off.  The seat that was on there was a cheap plastic one that was cracked and so I had gone out and purchased one of better quality.  I had been working on the thing but couldn’t get it so figured I would likely needed to raid my girlfriend’s garage as she has a whole host of tools at her home.

A short while later I ran into a woman in my building.  The people in my condo are uber friendly.  Kathy also happens to be the president of our strata.   As we were chatting I mentioned needing some additional tools to remove my old toilet seat.

Before I could say ‘Shazam’ Kathy had insisted that her husband take a look.  I really don’t like to put people out and told her not to worry about it, but she continued to insist and the next thing you know I had Bob stretched out under my toilet with Kathy hovering above him and a whole mess of tools.  My bathroom is very compact by the way.

Kathy and Bob are older and very sweet people.  Once we finally removed the bolt I got the new toilet seat and removed it from the packaging.  Kathy asked if she could take a closer look.

“Oh, this is really nice!  Where did you get it?” She asked.

“I got it at Lowe’s.  Just $38.” I told her.

Kathy then began to stroke it quite lovingly.  “Oh Bob, oh Bob.  We gotta get us one of these.  This is really nice and the quality!  Oh Bob.”

Bob takes it then and installs it and he was in agreement with his wife.  It was a rather comical moment to watch this woman fondle my toilet seat so lovingly.  It was very kind of them to help me with this task.

Yes, she and Bob went out to Lowe’s and purchased the same seat.  It makes me smile at the things that we find pleasure in.

It is the little things that sometimes take us by surprise.  I was talking with her recently and they have both just entered the world of technology and purchased their very first laptops and cell phones.  It is wonderful to see someone so excited about the technology.

I got my first computer in 1997.  It had 32 mb of RAM.  That’s it.  Going on the internet took 5-7 minutes.  Uploading a website required a whole lotta patience as well.  I was so completely enamored  with the technology.  My daughter and I fought each other to get onto the internet.  I found chat rooms where I could talk to someone in Australia, though looking back the conversations, they were rather mundane and typically weather, seasonal or culturally related.  I recall asking one fellow if he had a lot of kangaroos in the area he lived in.

I got several ‘LOL!  LOL! LOL!”

And I wasn’t too sure what that meant so I assumed it was an Aussie thing.   Later I came to understand this is a whole new way of communicating.

Of course, now it seems that everything is abbreviated and it drives me a bit crazy.  I feel like I’m trying to decipher code half the time.   I was a little slow off the mark when it came to this and I still don’t do it personally.  I don’t know.  I like to write out things fully even if I send a text message.  In truth though, I don’t text all that much.  It seems strange to have a phone and not talk on it.

One of the first times I sent a text I was trying to set up a facial.  I had purchased an discounted offer for this facial and it noted at the bottom to “Text Bryan” at this number for an appointment.

I asked my receptionist if she knew how to text and if she could show me.  I still had a flip phone.  She came over and we puzzled around with it.

“This is really old.” Jessica moaned in despair.

“You don’t know how to text on this?” I asked rather despondent.

“I think I do…”

She showed me a few things and so my attempts to text this fellow began.

The first message…”I am Nancy…I want…”

The message was sent.  Oh no! I had much more to say.

A moment later I received a reply.

“Hi Nancy.  What is it you want?”

“Bryan sorry…I don’t do…”

Oops!  Sent it again.

“Nancy, what is it you don’t do?”

“Figuring it out.  So sorry, I am slow at this…”

“?????”

At this point I was feeling a little panicky and Jessica was laughing hysterically.

Somehow I managed to switch to numbers and sent this one that said

“I like the facial ple222444…..”

Then I get the message. “Nancy, you do know you can phone me, don’t you?”

I felt rather foolish in that moment but sucked it up and phoned Bryan.  We had a good laugh over my lack of texting skills and I managed to book the facial.

I have a ‘smart phone’ now which I am slowly coming to conquer.  Texting is easier but I still don’t do all that much of it.  I like to talk…have a conversation.

So I will go now and wash my sticky fingers.  The redness has lessened in my wrist and I have a whole lotta work to do.

Have a great day everyone.

 

 

The Secret?


I had a fabulous run this morning.  I didn’t sleep well but then it seems as of late the battle of wills occurs when I slip into bed.  Then I have to really work to achieve the quiet mind and even once sleep claims me, the fight is carried on into the next stream of consciousness .  Dreams have been reflecting my anxiety regarding these recent rounds of events.  Even though only 4 1/2 hours sleep were attained last evening the need to run and find that connection, an affirmation to the living world held a deeper level of need.

And so as I greeted this day in all its glory I decided to do one of my first routes plotted out when I moved to New Westminster and began running again.  Today’s run was right up there and reminded me why I love to do this.  I got to thinking about many things this morning.

I am excited by the though of how much more energy I will have after the surgery.  I will just soar and I’ve never let myself do that before.  And with that thought I began to contemplate a few things I have been working on over the past few years.  I did a workshop a few years back and one of the exercises was to write for 5 minutes how we would look if we were truly happy and content in our lives.  We had to write down how we would dress, where we would be living, what type of work we would be doing…and we needed to add as much detail as we could.

I wrote furiously and managed about two pages of itemized detail on what ‘happy’ would look like on me.  Next we shared this with the group.  The last part of this exercise was rather telling.  We were asked why were not in the state of happiness that we had just described.

Oh, a plethora of excuses sprang to the surface.  I could easily have bemoaned the circumstances of my life with just cause but then the light bulb really went off.  It was quite simply my attitude that stood in the way of achieving the state that I so wanted to be in.  Change that and just see what comes of it.  I took the bait.

I have read about the Law of Attraction.  I have listened to tapes about secret societies that hold the key to untold wealth and power.  I have researched these secrets  and then I stopped and wondered why I found all of this rather tedious.  In truth, I don’t seek extreme wealth in monetary form.  I have no desire to own an estate on every continent.  I have no need for ten automobiles and a yacht or two.

I would like to be a successful writer and be able to earn a decent living from the proceeds.  And I will realize this.

There is an awful lot of talk about the law of attraction these days.  It started with the book The Secret.  Like many of you, several years ago I purchased it and attempted to apply what it spoke of.  Nothing changed.  Last year I listened to some tapes that stated the powers that be removed the truly beneficial information as they felt ‘threatened’ to some degree on what was being disclosed in this particular book.  Hence, The Secret remains as such.

Then I got to thinking about the whole power thing.  Power is one of the most misunderstood entities on this planet.  Too often it gets confused with control.  Beating the masses back into submission by means of using fear tactics does not grant power to the instigator.

Power is knowledge, it is love, it is selflessness, it is surrender.  Power is standing before this world  in all your vulnerability and accepting it as such.  Power is a quiet force that grows and spreads to like-minded individuals when it is released and shared.  It cannot be coveted and has no monetary value.  It is simple in its subtlety and yet when understanding begins to form you will see it in its honesty.

We talk about the power of natural forces.  Indeed.  Wind is without question a powerful entity.  It can rip down a forest or stir the seas up to boiling.  We are in awe of this, yes?  And we cannot harness its random nature, but we can learn from it.

And so I will continue to grow and find that quiet power within.  I will surrender this to the world, to the universe.  What comes back to me feeds the spirit, feeds the heart.   As this cycle continues, what is received is offered back and so a balance is found.  The life source flows naturally and unimpeded.

Thinking on these books such as The Secret, I liken it to the American Dream. We are all being sold one vision when there is an infinite kaleidoscope of viewpoints to choose from.  You just have to find the one that fits.  I also find it interesting how the introduction to these things starts by having the potential customer being asked to  ‘imagine having wealth beyond your wildest dreams…”

It is a current phenomenon I am sure.  Yet, it’s what we are instructed to go after.  It will make us happy.

This morning I was reminded on my run that I am still very much alive and still very much a part of this world and that made me very happy.  And I am going to allow myself to have this.

Thanks for stopping by.  Have a great day.

Blessings!

Good Morning Vancouver!


I took transit in to work this morning.  Last night we moved the majority of my daughter’s personal effects back over to my place.  Today she will be putting her furnishings into storage for a few months.  She has use of the car today to finish up the move.

As I sat on the train moving first along the river through New Westminster, then Burnaby and finally embarking upon Vancouver I was reminded of how I love to watch this city wake up.  I was transported back in time to a morning much like this with blue sky peeking out through cotton ball clouds.  I had just come back to the city after living in Edmonton for three years.

My daughter was a baby and I had found an office job, one of my first.  Thirty years ago as the bus snaked its way along Granville Street at 7:30 AM  I smiled.  “How I’ve missed you!” I whispered to this City of mine.  How many times have I watched the sun rise over her tree filled streets? How many times have I watched the mountains slip from the darkness of night in stoic uniformity to cradle this place?  How many times have I laid on the sand and let the ocean kiss my toes?

Always I have that moment where my breath catches and I feel so blessed to live in this place.

Some may say that Vancouver is an overpriced haven of two-dimensional people.  I admit the cost of living here is exorbitant.  The real estate market is an interesting game and in my mind it does not define the city of my birth. It is simply a market.

You have to get to know the soul of a city and I have over the years come to know this place very well and she has come to know me as well.

I have watched Vancouver be transformed cosmetically.  They took her natural beauty and polished the hell out it.  Yes, she is a gem.  No longer a diamond in the rough but a Cartier.  Keep in mind that beauty is only skin deep.  In order to be truly beautiful there has to be substance and heart.  Vancouver has it in spades.  There is an energy that moves through the lower mainland that I have always felt a connection to.  It is a comfort, at times an antagonist but always rings true to me.

This morning’s commute felt as though I was moving through those ghosts from the past.  The odd sensation of being 25 years old again and feeling like I was seeing Vancouver for the first time again.  I like these moments as I truly feel as though I am seeing my home from a new perspective.  It is her energy and gentle nature that stole my heart so long ago.  It is these mornings when I watch her rise with the dawn from a sensual slumber that I am reminded yet again of that love.

At the moment the clouds have moved in and we may well get some more rain, but we do live in a rainforest after all.  Can’t have the abundance of green spaces and trees that we do without it.

Good Morning Vancouver.  Know that you will always be the keeper of my heart.

Have a fabulous Friday everyone!

Strange This Life…


It is closing in on the witching hour of midnight.  I have had a rather eventful week, yes?

On the rise of the day I got up and did my 5 KM run. Now I had hoped that I would feel strong enough to do the 6 KM route, but such was not the case.  I am coming off of an illness, so I will listen to the body.

From there I attended my session with the specialist (a.k.a. gynecologist).  I always wondered why someone decides to specialize in vaginas.  Not that I am complaining…just curious.  I showed for my appointment and the good doctor had an intern in training.  Quite GQ in appearance I must say.  He took my family history and  background info. Then he and the good doctor appeared telling me that they would hopefully be able to tell me my condition upon leaving the office.  Now this I liked.  And the doctor didn’t think my condition ‘sinister’.  Most likely a polyp on the inside of my uterus, but I would likely have to kiss an ovary goodbye.

Okay, I thought.  I can dig it. With the speculum in place I smiled and said “I’m ready for my close-up.” With that a camera was fed up my vaginal corridor and as it passed the cervix a rude awakening…yes, they already were aware at this point I have a tilted uterus…I like to think of it as crooked.  Just born that way you see.

He attempted to feed the camera into the uterus, but this just was not going to happen.  Pain..though mild occurred and so I will go back in  month and take cervix relaxants.  No biopsy possible.  But I am feeling much better about this process.

I am to run 16 km on Sunday morning.  Oye!

I am gaining in strength…I know this…I hope I am well enough.  And all these odd little ramblings working this head of mine.  I am reviewing a book by a member of writing group.  It is about zombies.  They have become quite popular as of late, though in truth I am don’t know why.  I am not one for trends and following them.  If anything they make me curious as to our humanities state of mind.

Gareth is a good writer though.  I would not typically go out and purchase books in this genre.  But I must say, if this group has taught me anything it is good writing.  He tells a good story.  The writing is solid and engaging.

I think about my own writing.  I hope that I am developing my craft.  Becoming better.

Things have been strange lately.  I feel like I am all over the map then so isolated.  While I want to zero in on certain things they at times seem abstract and minimal.  A million things slip through my head and I am standing still wondering which direction to take.

I think about this Twitter thing.  Wonder about it’s  validity.  How strange this life at times becomes.  I am releasing some of my intimate thoughts to people who don’t know a thing about me otherwise.  All they know is of the words I have parlayed in this blog of mine.

Are any of you really curious about me?  Do you wonder what it would be like to sit in that obsolete notion of conversation with me?

I engage in conversation regularly.  It feeds me.  I need to touch  base with other humans regularly.  And as I  ramble about the physical body that seemingly sometimes falls apart on me, I divine that will not be the case and push it forward.

Bucket lists.  I have heard much of these in the past while.  All the things that we want to do before passing from this life.  Can I tell you what I want?  It may sound odd, unimportant…but I just want to be.

I want to live in each moment as I am blessed with and feel it to its core.  Hold it so close for that moment. Experience that truth.

I want to see something of this world.  But I am not one to lay on a beach to be baked by the  sun.  Is there an ideal ‘vacation’ for me?  I don’t know.  I just like to touch base with my fellow beings on this planet of ours.

And so I think about these little oddities.  I will go home.  Slip into my bed and ponder many abstract things before entering the sleep realm.

As of late a dream that I had in the early 1990’s has been afforded some attention.

Briefly in the early 1990’s I read a book called ‘Awakenings’  It was a book about dreams and lucid dreaming.  The premise was to keep a dream journal.  Focus on what the dream made you feel and to later re-occurring people, place and things and how they made me feel.

Now you see from a  very early age I  had night terrors.  (You will have to buy the book once published to fined out why 🙂 )   In any case, this one dream I had found me on a hill encased naked in a glass box.

Men could reach in and do what they wanted.  They could poke, prod, punch, jab, etc.  I  cried and sobbed while encased in this glass like casket unable to get away.  Then I heard the sound of the horse as it approached.  My old friend, from childhood, who always entered my dreams thundered down the hill and rearing up screamed a warning to the men who now scattered angrily.  I curled in a ball and listened as the hooves came down repeatedly smashing the encasement.  The men now were tossing ropes over the head of the horse to restrain it.  “Go!  I will find you !”  the horse expressed to me.  And I ran down the hill.

I found myself in New Westminster.  Now I had never lived in New West in my early years.  My brother had been housed our here in a home for the mentally disabled.  Not a nice place.  But I digress.

I found myself wandering the streets of New Westminster looking for my spirit horse.  At the bottom of a hill I found a compound of horses looking as though they were all close to death.  My horse was there.  I discovered they were going to make the animals into glue and dog food.  I felt shattered.

I went to a café across the street and announced my dismay at this.  The regulars there agreed to help me and created a diversion so that I could open the gate and free the horses. And my horse came to me and I sent him off smiling and said “I will find you.”

Why is this dream from the 1990’s significant, you ask?

For many years after this dream I shut down.  Found movement an effort.

When I bought my condo in New West an odd awakening occurred…and yes, as I began to run again…I found my  beautiful sprit horse that has walked with me since childhood.  For me there is such a strong connection.  It is just crazy.  I am finding my freedom.  I am reconnecting… I am finding self.

I kept these dream journals, as obscure as they may be….and now, I see the a truth they projected.

Take nothing for granted.  We have this moment, nothing more.  Do I need to fall from a plane…do I need to ski  down a mountain?  Do I need a rush on white rapids to feel alive?

No.  I don’t need to touch death to feel alive.

All I  need is to feel love. To feel the energy that surrounds me.

I will feel afraid at times, as I have in the past few weeks.  Reminded always of my mortality.  I am human. Nothing more.  I will die. But before that happens… no bucket list.   Not really. I just want to live.  To know that I have opened myself fully to this miracle I was given as tragic as it may have started.  Perhaps that is the thing of it.  The lesson.

To take the gift of life and truly appreciate it.