I have been trying to get my pepperkinz identity back for a long time now.\
Think positive.


Birthday Weirdness

Later- I cannot post about it yet.



This is the end of an era.
This is my last post on this blog, until such time as I feel I have something important to say.

In every life there are seasons. My long summer is ended and I am entering the autumn of life. I have made a conscious choice to change my life in ways important to me. Part of these changes will be sharing in other ways I have not experienced in many long years.

Farewell and good luck to you all.
Life in the carelane is rarely easy. May you, like me, find something real and lasting to gentle your path.

Bless you all.



Having had a lengthy recovery process from a relatively insignificant fall, I have nothing but admiration for my clients who are all decades older and less bone-dense. The former is obvious but how do I know the latter? Well-- let me elucidate.

Prevention is much more sensible than treatment and where bones are concerned, most treatments to help density take 10 years to be effective. Really! My father has osteo-arthritis and some osteoporosis. He is also elderly and reaping the negative benefits of a life of peril, turmoil, and turbulence on the high seas. Since I strongly favour my father in most things genetic, and since I have an older sister who likewise resembles him, the two of us went off to have heel scans. This is a service offered by appointment at our local Pharmasave.

I am not sure what I was expecting, other than the $50 fee. The most onerous part of a heel scan is the part where you fill out a form. The actual scan itself is almost without sensation. After the scan the technician goes through your chart which she has just printed out from the gathered statistics and then you go off to chat with a Pharmacist who has recommendations for you.

Oddly, it was during this last chat that my heel began to vibrate. I suppose my scrambled brain took just that long to recognise the sensations. My scan showed me to be 14% above the average for my age group. My sister who is nine years my elder was 40% above hers. We have good genes. Thanks Dad.

--------------- **

A cause may be inconvenient, but it's magnificent. It's like champagne or high heels, and one must be prepared to suffer for it.
Arnold Bennett


Uhm, not in Hindhi....

What's in a name?

Well- when I started this blog, if I googled "Pepperkinz" the only results were me and my blogspot posts. Now- it seems pepperkinz is some sort of catch word for spam.

Go ahead - google it.
I find it very difficult to believe that there is truly another pepperkinz out there.

वहत'स इन अ नेम?

oh hmm... Is it just me or did that title just become hindi?

--- must check settings....

Hard Times.

This winter has been terribly difficult for alot of people on this left coast. It has been cold and dark and bleak. Winter blues are everywhere.

After my experience at a meeting where a co-worker basically blew her cool and behaved in an uncommonly hostile way, I was discussing the phenomena of anger in the workplace with some folk who work in Facilities in this area. They also had noted that the instance of employee distress was way up. One of the facilities had a fist fight between two female co-workers and another had a grievance lodged against one Nurse who had physically threatened another. Unbelievable? No, all too believable. People are hurting.

My firm and unwavering belief remains that the antidote to hostility is kindness.
Those who confuse kindness with weakness are just that - confused. More kindness and less reactionary befuddlement goes a long long way to establishing firm boundaries. The peak of my management career came when I had the realization that credentials were far less important than adaptability. Many many people who came in knowing nothing became cornerstones of the business I was in. Skills are important, but trainability trumps every time.

As the economy slows and people everywhere are being forced to downsize, anger and bitterness is exhibited everywhere. The culture of entitlement is biting itself in the behind. Yesterday, a photo montage of what life is like in the Phillipines for those who have nothing and less than nothing was shown to me. I saw what changes can be made in lives without hope for what we would consider a pittance.
Yes, we in the pampered west have had change. Yes, times are turbulent. Tell your troubles to those who have nothing. They will listen respectfully, but I doubt they will understand it.

We remain the most spoiled brats on God's green earth.

------------------ !!!

Violent peace
blah blah blah
buy it right now
blah blah blah
we are the world
we are so huge
blah blah blah
johnny can't read
blah blah blah
I' can't see
blah blah blah
tuna on white
guns all night
blah blah blah

blue jeans coolies
everything huge
petrified food
pizza killers
from napalm to nice guy
nifty fifty
hit 'em where they live

the most spoiled brats
on god's green earth

pop before the war
(Iggy Pop - Blah blah blah)

My Angels

The complexities of life have led to my friends being more wide and varied than most.
A goodly gaggle of artists musicians and performers exist alongside those I met through work or just along the twisted path that has been my journey. As I had a very difficult young life fraught with illness and injuries, addictions and recoveries, the one constant has been my great ability to persevere. No matter how dark, no matter how bleak, I have kept going.

When you have lived hard, it is sheer luck that determines if your number comes up. That and a guardian angel. Either you believe in angels or you do not. If you are a doubter, my words will seem babble. If you are a believer, it will affirm your faith. Nothing less than a supernatural force could possibly have kept such as me alive.

Prior to my brain injury, I did, in fact see auras and dream heavily. As a very young child I was unable to distinguish my dreams from reality. It not for this knowledge perhaps I too would attribute my dreamings to scrambled body chemistry.
Through all my turmoils and temptations, there was an awareness that what was happening to me was not me. This distinction kept me going always through, not around until I could once again discover what was me.

One of the reasons to write, blog, journal and compose, is to keep memories fresh and alive. My dearest friends know all too well that my memory is completely unreliable. I am all right for the immediate as long as I write a reminder down. I am excellent as a responder as my skills are high and automatic. But if you want an accurate account of events - hmm, no, dont ask me. It does not trouble me to admit that altho it seems correct to me, I have had demonstrated countless times that I am likely to take two, perhaps three, truths and combine them into one. Not exactly confabulation, but definitly not historical evidence. It is therefor perhaps not true that I remember seeing an angel but I cannot imagine what else could be in my memory banks that would account for the brilliant orb I saw in my bedroom as a teenager. This orb emanated peace and goodwill and absolute love. I was not afraid, I was amazed. It told me to rest and renew and be still in the knowledge that I was important.

In my hospice work, I frequently have students along for the ride. Almost every one of them has given me a small gift on their graduation and almost every gift has been an angel. My clients and their families also gift me with angel pins keychains and ephemera. My dashboard and my headliner are adorned with dozens of these things. They watch out for me and remind me that in this vast universe, a being of light had time to calm a teenage heart and mind and place a life-saving truth within my soul.

I believe.


Dodged a Bullet

For some time, my old faithful car has been making an odd sound; a grinding clunking sound. As my particular model of Pontiac is notorious for going through front brakes, and as it had been almost one year since the last set went in, I was blissfully untroubled.

Around the time of the great snowfall, and after I had been stuck in two different drifts and pushed out by complete strangers, the noise level escalated. As I was driving my dad out and about he lost patience and raised his normally placid voice to bark: "For God's sake get that noise checked before you kill us all." Okay, I heard that!

Two days later as I was breakfasting in the dub, my friends of friends who had been so helpful and hireable during my September move from hell appeared. They were looking lithe and lean and oh so tanned as they had been in the Philippines for the past 3 months. I mentioned my car dilemma as the gent is a retired mechanic. I asked him to recommend a garage that wouldn't take me to the cleaners. "Pop by the house and I will have a look. Then we can go from there."

Visiting these people is fraught with peril for me as the gent has a bit of a crush on me. I found that out in a bit of an awkward way, a big bit of an awkward way when we were painting my old condo. I no longer deem it wise to be alone with him but neither do I wish to offend as he was very good to both me and my father. I am well aware that we all can only be who we are. That is who he is. The middle way around this, I decided, would be to take Dad along. So - off we went.

Brakes and pads and rotors for old faithful vary in price HUGELY. Stock parts and after-market ones seem to wear pretty much alike. This insight came to me after set #4 went in 11 months after set #3. Set #3 was the time I spent big with the very best, the most heavy-duty, and of course the priciest installed. Set #4, the cheapest of the cheap, lasted almost 2 years. So for 350$ I got a year and a bit more than my $1700 bought. What I wanted from my mechanic advisor was an opinion on what would constitute a reasonable price for the work needed.

Our buddy went out for a ride with Dad in tow and returned in less than 3 minutes. He could not speak as he came in making for the telephone. He looked at me with a red face and dialed. After a 2 minute phone convo he turned to me to inform me the car was unsafe to drive. Anywhere. I was going to call a towtruck to move it to a garage and then rent a car when our buddy said:
" Arent you taking your dad out for dinner?"
Yes, yes I was.
"Do you have an hour or so?"
Yes, yes I do now.

So it was that Dad graced their couch for a wee nappie, the wife made coffee for herself and me, and we chatted about life in the tropics for a few hours.

My brakes remain undone but my wheel bearings have been replaced and in Spring when the sand salt and sludge is gone my brakes will be restored.

Our mechanical friend said that when he took the wheels off, the bearings broke in his hands. Dodged a bullet there.

I truly believe that all my angels guarded me. My flotilla can stand down for awhile now. And me - I am breathing: in out in out in out.


“These things I warmly wish for you Someone to love, some work to do, A bit o' sun, a bit o' cheer, And a guardian angel always near”
(Irish Blessing)


Projects - - -

Install Closet in Bedroom - dressy clothes and shoes...

Downstairs balcony lattice - privacy screen.

Upstairs balcony - cover.

Car - touch-ups for paint, front end work and brakes - again.

Papers and disks - short stories. Submissions. Collections.

Archiving.... again.


Oh My my!

Today, I have been given two more weeks of exercise to get my shoulder back in shape. Two more weeks! ... (sigh)

One of my great pleasures in life is communication. It is such a joy and a privilege to listen to tales of other folk's. Their experiences and opinions are treasures that are sometimes hidden and other times displayed for all if they only would use their senses. So many times, people have this need to be heard and there is no one there TO hear. The saddest are the ones who have alot of people in their lives and flurries of activity everywhere, but nothing that connects in that deep satisfying manner. The part of my job that I most love is that connecting.

These days of exercise and physio I am connecting all right... with my piano, with my guitar, with my keyboard, with my dog. I miss my lovelies.

----- !!

"As the ocean "waves," the universe "peoples." Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals. Even those who know it to be true in theory do not sense or feel it, but continue to be aware of themselves as isolated "egos" inside bags of skin. "

Alan Watts : English mystic & writer
(1915 - 1973)