On the way to a new year

every year at this time
humanity in general
set firm resolutions
for the betterment of their lives

I'm gonna lose weight
I'm gonna get a new job
I'm gonna find a new home
I'm gonna take the dog for a walk
I'm gonna pray daily
I'm gonna get smarter...get better...get more

it's hard not to have your resolutions
revolve around the constant inundation
of advertisements

buy Montel Williams' Health Master blender and all will be right in your world
buy "Slim in 6" and all will be right in your world
buy a wee digital camera and all will be right in your world
buy an oven, a fryer, an ab cruncher, a kindle, an iPhone, stainless appliances, an air cleaner, a vacuum, a hair accessory, a dvd, a cook book, a how to book, a car...
.....and all will be right in your world

me?
I'm thinkin about the fact
that I am but a work in progress
and I'm hoping that instead of resolving
to better better, brighter, smarter, righter...

I'll just continue to progress in a manner
that allows me to look at myself
in the mirror in the morning...

that'll be good enough for me.

Let there be Peace♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Let it begin with me♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Let there be Peace ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Let it begin with me ♥ ♥ ♥ Let there be Peace ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Let it Begin with me♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...Let there be Peace♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...
PEACE!

....may holler...

so I had to go back to my GP's office today
cos we'd miscalculated about my meds lasting
until mid Jan
after my next set of blood work
so I had to go in for scripts

I'd not actually seen him
since the fiasco at the Diabetes Clinic
where I was supposed to see a dietitian
and get a glucose meter
and the twit running the thing
treated me like an infant
and then yelled at me in front of a bunch o people

"am I boring you?" she yells

cos I had my eyes closed
those'd be the eyes that have a disease
and react poorly to strong/bright light
over an extended period of time...

"I have an eye disease" I say to her

and she starts harrumphing
and goes on to tell me
that I'm not really a diabetic

"my Dr says I am" I says

"well yer not" she says...

things went straight downhill from there...
when I came out of the diabetes clinic
I called my GP
as I was somewhat less than impressed
*ahem*

so the GP is away on holidays
and the locum is one I've met before
very nice
quiet little fellow
wouldn't say shit
if he had a mouthful

he comes in the door
and places my file on the desk
he opens the top cover of the file
reads, nods and takes a really big breath
and then looks at me
all trepidacious

"what can I do for you today?"
he asks

"I just need refills for my scripts" I say

"Oh" - he says exhaling hugely

he opens the file to find the list
and while he's looking
my eyes land on a sticky note
on the inside cover of my file
left there specifically
by my Dr
as instructions
for the quiet guy
taking his place
whilst he's away on holidays

the sticky reads
"May holler"
in my Dr's handwriting.

The VOD
and
the Blister
find this hysterically funny

me?
....not so much.

it just never ends...

I got a rather panicked call from the VOD today
she'd just got a call from her Dr

seems that a week ago with the bother
took the VOD to the Dr for a check up
they got her to have chest xrays
around her cough

while her lungs seemed fine
they discovered that the fracture in her back
from last March
is much worse
and they are booking her in to have a ct scan this week
and into the hospital
whereby they are going to "glue" the fractures

"scuse" me? I says

"glue" she says

"mom are you sure you heard her right?"

"what am I an idiot?
I asked her 3 times!"

ok
glue it is...

she's to be in the hospital over New Years.
*sigh*
it just freakin never ends.

Christmas with Sheldon....it bears repeating...

For years and years I too hated Christmas…too much brouhaha in my books…then I had a Christmas epiphany…no small feat for a non-Christian…but here goes

I always put huge store in Christmas…because I was raised in a huge family and I had believed all my life that "family" is what Christmas was about…My Father’s birthday is the twenty-third and my uncle’s is the twenty-fifth and as a child we always did the big Christmas/birthday celebration…but as time goes on things change and you discover that "family" are people too…and they have foibles…they mess up…and things never quite live up to your expectations.

In the early ‘90’s my Mother moved to BC leaving me to live in the old family home in Thunder Bay. My brother was newly married to woman that put the "C" in control. (and another word that I won’t use here!) She didn’t like cooking when I was around and for many years I thought it was cos she was intimidated by the fact that I have my chef’s papers…turns out she’s just lazy, opinionated and lazy…but that’s another story.

So Mom moves to BC, Dad and my sister are in Toronto and I am faced with the prospect of cooking the whole Christmas shebang at my brother and sister-in-law’s house. My sister-in-law has invited her whole family so I am cooking a 27lb turkey and all the trimmings. Two kinds of stuffing (one for each end) 3 kinds of salad and 4 vegetables, mashed spuds, gravy, pickles etc etc and top it all off with Figgie Pudding…(I’m from a go big er go home kinda family)

Five days before Christmas my sister-in-law calls me and informs me that I am "allowed" to come to her house for an hour between 6 and 7 AM to stuff the bird and put it in the oven…but then I need to leave for the day so she can have some "quality" time with her family.

Can you guess where I told her to put her bird? ~ahem~

So the Christmas dawns and I am alone. I am not answering the phone…and I am depressed….as my Grampy used to say, "I am lower than whale shit and that is on the bottom of the ocean! We are having a good old North Western Ontario blizzard and as I listen to the radio I am overcome both with the concept that I can’t get away from Christmas (it’s just freakin everywhere) and that I am alone. So I jump in my truck and head out to the local truck stop for breakfast. Somewhere where there’s people and noise.

On my way to the truck stop I drive past the Greyhound Bus Depot and while it is closed I spot and elderly man in a summer weight suit huddled in the doorway.

I drive by…then go around the block and drive by again. Something about this situation tweaks my conscience and I cannot get the picture of this man out of my head.

On my third pass I pull into the parking lot and lean out my window. "Are you ok?" I ask. This tiny elderly fellow looks up at me and with tears running down his face says, "I’ll do."

"Well no…he won’t do." I think as I watch him shiver and shudder. So I offer to let him in my truck. I’m thinking that if it turns out he’s got a gun…I certainly won’t feel any worse off than I already do this Christmas.

At first he refuses. But then with some cajoling and conversation he eventually climbs in and I take him to the truck stop to warm him up and maybe get him some food. He refuses to eat but allows as I could buy him a "cup of cocoa".

As he thaws out he tells me his story. He tells me his name is Sheldon Shepherd. He left Vancouver 3 days ago on his way to London ON to spend Christmas with his family. He was traveling by Greyhound. In the bathroom in the Thunder Bay bus terminal he is mugged…robbed…and knocked out. Because he is old school and won’t ask for help when he comes to… he doesn’t tell anyone, his grandkid’s Christmas presents are gone, as is his coat and wallet. He finds himself outside of the depot, the depot closed, in a blizzard with a lump on his head the size of Santa. Areas of his story seem lacking to me…but he’s got this lump and no coat and no money…so…

I am filled with righteous indignation and I insist that he allow me to call the police. They come and after all is said and done I find out that they can get him another bus ticket to London but they have to find a judge to authorize the funds and besides there is no bus running thru till the twenty-sixth. One of the police officers suggests that this sad soul go to the local homeless shelter. I’ve never been there but I know where it is so I agree to drive him there.

Sheldon is quiet on his way to the shelter. He confides in me as we are pulling into the parking lot that he’s never had to accept charity before and not comfortable with it now. I fully understand. I have never been able to look a homeless person in the eye. I have always been consumed with guilt and the thought that there but for the grace of all the gods go I.

In we go. My first impression was that we were entering a jail. We walked in thru the front door to be confronted with locked double doors and a "security guard". Sheldon is pulling back so I tell the guard his story and the guard opens the locked doors to allow us into the shelter telling us to "find Rick".

As we enter I am assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and smells….lots of them not pleasant. There is a riot of color and furniture and bodies everywhere…there are people sleeping standing up against walls and on the stairs and tired used old blankets clutched in dirty little children’s fingers.

Slowly as I become accustomed to the "ambiance" I begin to see Christmas in this room. There are bits of tinsel hanging from dirty stocking caps set jauntily over dirty faces. There’s what can only be called a Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the corner and there are new socks and new gloves on many hands and feet…and lots of the people that are awake are smiling. I don’t understand.

Across the room is the big serving window to the kitchen but I see no one on the other side…as I start across the room I hear the unmistakable sound of dishes smashing to the floor and a resounding "Damn it!" from behind the wall. I peek around a see a harried fellow, in half a Santa suit picking up broken dishes and muttering.

"Rick?" I ask. This frantic man turns to me and blesses me with the biggest gap tooth smile and says…"yup…hiya! What can I do for you?"

I explain Sheldon’s story and Rick tells me no problem he can stay here over night. He then turns to Sheldon and says,"I don’t suppose you can cook?"

"Why?" says Sheldon and I at once. Turns out that the volunteer church group that was to cook the shelter’s Christmas dinner won’t be coming because of the storm. Rick says that Christmas is always a banner time for the shelter food wise…"people assuage their guilt by giving at Christmas". The end result is that he has tons of food and no cooks.

"Hmmmmmm," says I, "maybe I can help"

Long story short…we have Christmas dinner for close to 200. Sheldon isn’t a cook but he’s a mean dishwasher and clean up kinda guy…and we recruit a couple of people from the shelter and we are off… We have beef and turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing made in pans instead of in the bird and spaghetti with sauce and chocolate pudding.

We have Christmas Carols and laughter and hugs and tears and handclasps from dirty little fingers. By 10 PM I am completely and totally physically exhausted, sweaty and hot, hot, hot… but as I turn to survey the room I have an epiphany.

Christmas is not about receiving the love from my family that I believe is my due. It truly is about the giving. In any way shape or form.

Sheldon passed away in 1996 but I still hear from his daughter Janice…once a year at Christmas. In the more than 13 years since this event occurred in my life, I’ve sent this story out to online friends far and wide...and as a result there are “Christmas with Sheldon” parties all over North America designed by people who have been affected by Sheldon’s story to assist people that have “less than” we do. Not people we believe are less than us because we don’t get to judge. But people that have less than us for whatever reason…and they don’t just happen at Christmas.

And here I am more than 13 years later understanding that Sheldon’s plight could have occurred to anyone of us at any time in our lives. Sheldon coming into my life was a true blessing and a life changing moment and my telling of Sheldon’s story to others is not my right but my responsibility.

It is truly the best that I can do.

sheep

I will never cease to be amazed
by the small mindedness
and meanness of some people

it seems that for some people
it's not enough to hurt you themselves
they have to systematically
set about destroying relationships for others...
by spreading rumors and innuendos
and untruths

if ya want the truth..
just ask
and if you aren't asking
you aren't really friends
you are just as much at fault
as the liars

remember folks....
what you put out comes back to you 3 fold
you will get what you deserve in the end
no matter how wonderful you think your life is now

and if you are one of those people
duped by the manipulators
you probably deserve what you get
cos you never once asked
never once asked
you just took the liars at their word
and fell into line...

sheep.

I wish you peace
yer gonna need it.

a confession

if you please

I've never had much use
for Elvis Costello

I've always thought of him
as that funny little man
that was sorta maybe famous
cos he sang a couple of little songs
thru his nose in the 80's

and eventually
he married Diana Krall
and got really famous.

apparently I was wrong

have you ever watched
"Spectacle with Elvis Costello"?

apparently some really big names
like and respect him

listen to the calibre of guest list
this man has:
Herbie Hancock,
Kris Kristofferson,
Rosanne Cash,
John Mellancamp,
Norah Jones,
Rufus Wainwright
The Police
Tony Bennett
James Taylor
Lou Reed
Julian Schnabel
Sir Elton John
Sheryl Crow
Bono and The Edge

holy cow!

course...
he's still a funny little man
with a funny nasally voice
that sings other people's songs
in front of them

poorly...

but neat show!

Dweeb Hats

so last night
on my way home from work
I had to stop
to pick up a carpet
for the VOD
she was having
her living room area rug
cleaned
and they called to say it was ready

I got there about 5:15pm
and they close at 5:30
so I was cutting it close
and of course
by 5:15pm at this time of year
it's dark outside

I'm wearing 4 layers
and one of my many wool hats
cos hey! it cold and I'm bald

the hat I'm wearing is fleece lined
and has ear flaps and a pom pom

so I walk into the carpet cleaning place
and I walk up to the counter
the clerk is standing
with her back to me
likely doing her day end deposit
and I feel a twinge of guilt
around the fact that I'm likey
about to make her change it all

she, with her back still to me
says "I'll be right with you"

I says "take yer time...I'm just gonna
stand here under this heat vent"

she says" ya....it's so cold this year
I had to go out and buy one of them dweeb hats"

I say "dweeb hats?"

and she says "you know? the one's with the
ear flaps and the pom poms"

and then she turns around

LoL

at least she had the good grace
to blush

I laughed all the way to the VOD's

people just don't get it

the whole
what it's like
to live with a debilitating disease
(er two er three) thing that is

take the fadder (please?)

he's in town for the weekend
stayin at the cuz's place

we meet for breaky
and we have a talk about my health
whereby I tell him all about
how I feel like I'm finally coming out
of the end of a dark tunnel
and I recognize that
it took years to get here
so it's baby steps
going forward
but I'm determined
to find a way
to make these diseases
live together
and play nice
and that's why I'm spending
so much time with the Dr's
cos they have answers I don't have

I also say
that I recognize
that it ain't gonna be pretty
and it's gonna take a long time
but I'm determined

his response
is to tell me this story
about his latest chicklette

who's a spry 67 yrs old
had a stroke
was in a scooter
etc etc
decided that she loved boxing
lived close to a gym
developed a relationship with a
personal trainer
and now she's running marathons

I find it exasperating but still
I say "see...that just proves to me
that I will be able to find a way to
get thru this"

his response is..."just get some exercise"
*insert dumbfounded expression here*

I try yet again
to explain the problem with my legs

and he doesn't get it

yet he's actually had surgery
on one of his Achilles tendons
for exactly the same problem I have
and was in a brace for a year before the
surgery

but he don't get it

so I go and pick up the VOD at noon
we go to the grocery store
and the pharmacy
and are back at her house by 2pm

and my left heel is so sore
I would rather cut off a breast
than put any weight on it

every step feels like
someone is cutting my
Achilles tendon

and I'm realistic enough
to recognize
that it's like
exacerbated
by my weight
(I am not an idiot ya know)

I get home by 3
and it hurts so bad
all I can think of is gettin
off of it
and maybe pukin

and he doesn't understand
why I'm not exercising?

3 hrs on my feet
and I'd rather live
in the crazy cat lady's house
than do laundry
or wash the kitchen floor

people think I'm lazy
and that's why I'm fat

but I'm not

I'd way rather go back to
the shape I was in 10 years ago
than hurt like this
from just being on my feet
for 3 hours

I'd way rather be able to eat
vegetables...
I'd kill for green beans
and I'd likely sell body parts
for one single apple
but I know what both of those things would do to me
just like I know that
a bite er two of broccoli
will land me in the hospital

so I'm not fat
cos I'm lazy
and I'm not fat
cos I wanna be
and I'm not fat
cos I don't care

I'm fat
cos I can't eat what I want
or what's good for me

I'm fat
cos I sit and wait
for the pain to go away

and that right there
is the truth of my existence.

it's the little things

so I'm a happy camper today
and I have proof that I am hugely
easy to please

I've just found out that they are making
another Riddick movie

the script is locked in
and they are in New Zealand
hunting locations

I looooves me some Riddick
mostly cos it doesn't suck that Vin Diesel
looks just like Michael did
but without hair

yup
easy to please...
a quiet office
an ipod
and it's Friday

what more could a girl ask for?
lol