About the Ministry...

Rather than asking Teus Kappers for permission to upload that little film to YouTube I just did it, as I believe the more people who see it the better.

Teus did the graveside service when my Mother died. It so touched me that this man would come from Vancouver on little notice to do this for us, the family.
The Ministry used to have rather a more graphic depiction of life at sea for these sailors in an earlier documentary which they would show at any Church that would let them.

My involvement with this Ministry is the same as yours.
I watch from afar.

My mother and father were founders of the local chapter of this ministry and every year my mother would get her friends to knit toques and scarves for these sailors.
Being young and knowing everything, it would embarress me that she would think this was really something worth doing. THEN I saw the earlier documentary.

What alot of people do not know is that many of these sailors go to sea untrained, uneducated, living a life of virtual endentured servitude at the behest of their multi-national employers who do not prepare them at all for what life at sea in the wild Pacific is like. Every year, dozens, if not hundreds of these men are lost at sea, swept away to their deaths unreported and unremembered.

I asked one of the women who went aboard the ships to share her version of the Gospel why she thought it was something the sailors would even want to hear.
Her answer:
"Would you rather they heard it when they were dead? Because some of them will be in days or weeks."

What a trite little idiot I was.

I met Mina Rowney and her husband Elias last week.
My dear father wanted me to drive down unannounced to see them. I was hestitant but I did it. Mina and Elias just retired from their unpaid service to mariners from the Port of Nanaimo. They went aboard every foreign ship that came into Nanaimo harbour.
The Sailors do not just get bombarded with "this is the word of God" they are given shirts to choose from, sweaters, toques, coats, anything Mina and Elias can carry.
Then they sit down to share with these men, and from there deep friendships and spiritual connections are formed.

Mina and Elias had to retired. Elias's heart will no longer take the long walks up the gangplanks. Some of those can be five stories high. In fact Mina told me that a great burly longshoreman asked her to deliver a letter to the Ship's Captain as he was afraid of the gangplank. Mina is 83 years old.

Now they have retired from this unpaid position, I am sure they will find something equally dynamic to do.

I love passion in people. When I saw Mina last week I cried as I listened to her.
She is on fire.

SO: Perhaps you do not understand this Ministry thing. Perhaps you think it archaic of them to engage in such things. But the men who go down to the sea in ships respect them as much or more than I do.

My father is a retired Marine Pilot who spent his life working the coastline of British Columbia. He lost deckhands, cooks and fellow pilots to the savage seas.
I am proud that he was a founder of this mission out of Nanaimo.

As for Teus: love and respect to him.
I know God is looking out for him.



For all you girlies who keep asking me....

For those in the know, I have an evil twin.
He is just the best person in the world to be related to, largely because we share the most oddbeat sense of humour and find all the same things amusing.
Usually when in the company of others, even our own family, eyebrows go up and they abandon us to our deliriums.

The girls always ask me if it is true that my brother looks like Ricky Martin.
They hear it from the ones who HAVE bumped into him when he visits.

A picture is worth 1000 words.
What do you think?

just dont tell him I posted it.
He would scream about the above.

Of course I have my own celeb-look alike.
Shelley Duvall.

My solution: gain 30 pounds.
Worked for me. ;)

Weekender stuff

Having a small life is wonderful.
Movies are a source of joy for me. It was just chance that I did not pursue a career in film. I had both the talent and the opportunity. The reason I chose not to was a blinding precognition that given my personality, it would kill me. There is no doubt in my mind that Hollywood plus me would equal addiction and a downward spiral.

For every 100 films seen, I may comment on one. Maybe two.
Very seldom do films touch me sufficiently for me to blog about them.
After all I average 6 films a week.

This weekend past I saw "The Fountain" and "Pan's Labyrinth."

"The Fountain" got very mixed reviews but I rather liked it. Of course it could have been better but what couldnt?
The one persona of the man lived a dreamlife similar to the one I experience.
All that floating.....

"Pan's Labyrinth" was spectacularly good.
The evil was so very evil and the good so very naive.
Allegory or not, I wish there were more films in this mileiu.

Neil Gaiman's site has a link to the Stardust movie.
I had forgotten they snagged Peter o'Toole.
Reason enough for me to see it.

You may have noticed...

Cheshire Cat: You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.


Who Knows? Not me!

OH bother what a bloody nuisance all this change is.
I love my routines. Noone messes with my routines. (except my office, OF COURSE.)


So yeah: cancer cancer everwhere.
I had a surreal experience tonight while ordering from my Avon lady.
Somehow in conversation it came out that she too, has a brain injury.
She had surgery for a tumour 2 years ago.

We are everywhere!


Still havent linked the shiny things to here.
Sorry. Will do after tomorrow.
Had a busy weekend of doing nothing. I did my Volunteering shift but really only managed to clean my room and make pretty labels for my daytimer.

I told you there was a reason for this blogs name.
Big rants. Small lives.


A Goughic moment


Sutton for mutton
Tamworth for beef
Wasseltown for bandylegs
and brumminjim for a thief.

--ask me later :)

posted to a client's fridge (in bold block letters)

his little note pasted to the fridge door, at the home of a very pleasantly confused client, I

surrepticiously copied it to my planner while pretending to take notes to the progress report.

This is cute.
And oh so very apt for people like me:


I'm Lost!

♥ I've gone to look for myself.
If I should return
before I get back,
♥ please ask me to wait.


If you see me wandering about with this taped to my forehead,
you'll know what happened.

Speaking of passion...

Just listen to this:

(and yeah, wasn't he beautiful as well as angry)

You can see a flash of what I was trying to say in this.
On the *establishment* side and not understanding sweet fuck all is one of our most beloved Canadian Commentators---
and amazingly he is scoring a COMPLETE miss trying to connect with Iggy who he has obviously deeply offended--- yet Iggy is still managing to hold it to together enough to convey his message in a way he can understand...

Too bad about the Union trouble that made this TV appearance impossible. I would have liked to see Bowie and Pop but perhaps this little 9 minutes of awkwardness is far better at showing young eyes what it meant to be a punk when there was no word.
Interesting how Iggy defines that punk rock label.
Listen closely...

Vancouver Punk --- Joe Keithley

Looking around with the eyes of a new Century, where self-expression is a given, and the right to hereof, the blazing audacity of what it was like to see Joey Keithley in the Vancouver of the 1970's and 80's is frankly unimaginable.

Punk was new and raw and for the "retreads" as some said-- the inference always being that a Punk Rocker was some miscreant that couldn't get attention any other (respectable responsible and therefor valid) way. The idea of living a truly alternative lifestyle was heinous. (baa baa, says the sheep)

Joey Keithley was never apologetic. Never quiet about his beliefs. Never one to blend in. He was loud, in your face, and challenging everything you thought you knew.

There is a reason that Green Day and Sum41 and Blink182 and a zillion other bands are able to take the punkpath. Joey and other guys like him were the ones out there in the jungles wielding machetes clearning the path. The new generation of punks generally don't get spat at as a matter of course, or slandered attacked and belittled for their beliefs.

Okay why I am ranting about this man?
An aging punk...

I used to have a sticker on my car for years.... a DOA sticker from the Bloody but Unbowed era

It said: Talk minus action equals zero.

It was just one of many.
Aint it cool that 2 decades later he is still just as energised, just as passionate, just as assessible?

If you want to get a taste of this passion check his website for Sudden Death Records or click on YouTube and type in his name or his bands name..
Buy his book and read about the life in the day.
Get informed, get involved, and even if you can't find common ground with him, find that place in yourself that can want to improve this planet for other, possible generations.

I salute Joe Keithley. He is nothing if not a true citizen of the world.
And my friends, they are few and far between.
Honour the journey.

If it's Friday....?

Where am I?

Oh yes, it is my day of bliss; the day I get to come and work for free in an atmosphere as different from Geriatric and/or Pyschiatric Nursing as can possibly be.
It is not actually *work*-- rather it is joy. No matter how many times I write this, the sheer amount of happiness this brings me cannot be conveyed by mere words.

Early this morning when I checked in to my __real__ office, a few co-workers pounced on me regarding an unattended (by me) meeting.

"What happened to Workplace Wellness?"

When you are not present you cannot deliver a report.
I forgot about that. --ooops

The new way of delivering HealthCare in this Province under the current fiscally overly-responsible government has very little to do with compassion to the client or wellness to the employee. It is all about the almighty dollar. Big surprise, huh?

Screw wellness-- I have seen nothing wellness oriented from the Employer for over a year now. There is no way I have the temerity to stand up and give a report on a topic that I passionatly believe in yet must conceed we fail in.

Screw pretense.

One on one, a person at a time is where I see workplace wellness.
All day every day in as many ways as possible I want to send those ripples out.
It no longer involves meetings.

Not for me at least/


Todays Happy Memory

Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.

The euphoria of yesterday has given way to the harsh reality of today.
----holy moly my jaw hurts-----

Tighter and tighter to close the spaces so my jaw bones are aligned correctly and the scars are in all the right places. Of course moving teeth through bone is never painfree but when they winch me tighter the next day I generally want to call in sick.
My pain tolerance is very high but FUCK this hurts.

------ tsk tsk, a nixonism on my blog. NO fucks here thank you very much.
Wish I could say I gave at the Office but no, that just doesnt happen these days.

It was sunny today and I wore an orange singlet under a floral blouse that positively screams hawaiian colours. Oh how festive I am. This day was a good day.
The Wordsmith was on my list again today. The change really is noticeable.
He told me the same story 4 times. (sniff)
It's a good story. He would be very shocked to think he was a repeater.


Time catches us all. Representative as I am of the non-botoxed, stretched pulled or implanted feminine divine, I truly grieve for my sisters who feel never good enough.


Happy happy happy

( Pep does the happy dance all over the blog )


After years of pain and torment, my manipulations are almost complete.
One silly millimeter to go and I will be unwired but still bionic.

I cannot wait. The end, she is in sight.


Joey Shithead posts to YouTube!

----- YAY!------

Just Blessed, thats all.

Some days you find yourself surrounded by chaos and other days it is different.
Today started badly for me, as the alarm just did not wake me up.
Leaving my cosy warm bed and my even cozier doggie seemed more difficult than usual.
Oh how I love my Mr. Fluffy-pajamas.

Got my early morning caffiene with a shot of hot chocolate, after twice punching in the wrong code then the wrong account. Looking at the drive through clerk I told her I would drive through again and sort it out so as not to hold up the line.

I did actually make it to my first appointment on time and prepared. It was a regular Mrs. Fuss-budget of mine', who has just lately decided that I might be all right after all. It took me 4 years to wear her down with my charms.
4 years and another client in the same building who told her that I was a rather nice person. Mrs. Fuss-budget told me this herself and added:
"I told her OF COURSE YOU ARE."
God only knows what she had said prior to prompt that conversation.

Today Mrs. F-B is regaling me with tales of her cars. She had an Austin, she had a Morris Minor, she had an Anglia, and a Colt and a Mini-Minor but it was a lemon and on and on.... A new car every two years.

I asked if her (late)husband drove her car.
"Oh no, nothing doing. He always drove a Jaguar."
(-of course he did. Silly me.)

We had some laughs after her driving stories and then I was off to ZeeZee's.
Pulling in to this million dollar driveway I always catch my breath, and just take in the view. She lives 20 feet from the high tide mark. The home is built in the shape of the letter *U*. The living room and dining room and master bedroom all have floor to ceiling windows two stories high. It is a stunning place to visit.
The street has grown up around her and the newer homes have gates and high powered alarm systems.

ZeeZee had the door standing open.
"I told you I would be up and ready!"

Usually we have to wake her up etc... but yesterday I made a point of telling her what time I would be ariving today. I wanted to see if she remembered.
Obviously so.

She is her brilliant best today, and I have such pleasure in her company it seems wrong that I am being paid for this. As I leave she says to me:
"Oh you don't know what it means to me you're coming. It is just such a blessing to me to have --you-- and I know I can't have --you-- all the time but I thank God for the days I can."

How humbling to be so loved today.

The love-in continued on most notably at the home of the wordsmith who is somewhat failing these days. There has been a change. He now repeats himself which is something that never before happened. This is not abnormal for a 98 yr old gentleman but it is sad in him.

We get the job done and he is regaling me with tales of his travels.
This is a very good visit. I now walk him out to his wife.
Leaving to tidy up my mess, and returning to say farewell, I have a little moment as I gaze his way to the chesterfield. He is wearing his jaunty little beret, looking just the artiste he is.

This man is Cary Grant + George Clooney + Jimmy Stewart.
Charming AND likeable without an ounce of deceit or licentiousness.

His wife smiles that I am laughing at the beret in delight and I am wishing aloud I had a camera in my pocket to take his picture. It is precious and priceless.

"Oh," she says, "Can you wait just a moment? I would like you to take a picture of he and I. We do not have a recent one."

She is in her 80s but looks 65. She does a wonderful job keeping him at home and he appreciates every moment of it.

So I do.

And now away....

She calls me back--

"He was so low this morning. I was worrying about how he would take whoever showed up. Thank you he is just 100% better. I am so glad it was you. You are a blessing."

She is a very lovely woman but not given to outbursts of gratitude nor flattery.
I am deeply touched.


Now what is it about today, what aura swirls around me this day that so reached my little clientelle?

Thank you, God, for a wonderful day.
It is not the flattery. It is the affirmation that I am doing what I should be.


Having met all my (medical) goals now it is time to face the February phase of things.
It is called *Diet and Exercise*

The actual goal is to incorporate 5 extra hours of exercise into my week while practising moderation in my eating habits. Oh it seems so unnatural.

Reading Neil Gaiman's post of this morning I had a good laugh.
He had a little footnote on his own diet.

* It's working just fine, thank you. I call it The Don't Eat So Bloody Much and Would It Kill You To Take A Walk Now And Again Diet*

--- * ---

Not that it is important of course, but I have had to buy new (bloody) clothes to accommodate my goddessnesss. Stretchy pants. Baggy tops. Dark colours to camouflage the uhm, divine.

In the pool, pretending to enjoy whatever it is I do there, I try to mirror the movements of the instructor but it is hopeless. As I go to the showers to wash off my ineptitude, I get a tap on my shoulder. It is the instructor.

"I have to ask. Are you a former weight lifter?"
I turn to look at her in amazement. Surely the roundness has confuzzled her focus.
Another voice behind her:
"You have the most developed shoulder muscles I ever saw in a woman."
They are insane. That is all past history of the long long ago and the only over developed muscle of mine is my sphincter.

I come home and look through 2 mirrors.
Nope, looks pretty normal to me.
I lift my arms and stretch.
Ooooo. They are still there. Amazing. But it just ends after that, down down to a sea of soft white skin.

My haircut looks great by all reports. (She says cleverly changing the focus of the post)

Perhaps my destiny is to live on, redeeming the place of soft round womanhood to a cultural norm instead of a fate worse than death.


Grateful Dead - Touch Of Grey

I heard this again for the first time in years.
I found myself singing along.
I remembered most of the words.
Now they mean something.

Scheduling ?


One of my two imminently palliative clients passed away just after I left his home.
Inquiring about the other I was told he was now receiving service BID.

Today he was on my list and with much trepidation I pulled into the driveway.
It seemed unthinkable he could have made it to today in the shape he was in.
The last visit he was still conscious but so very weak that even sipping water was a difficulty. As I left he had said to me: "That was something. You pushed me hard."

Now I am going to the door and thinking to myself: "No way."

I sneak a peak through the window and the hospital bed is gone and the living room back to normal. The wife sees me peering in and now I am committed to action.
O no!

Luckily, I am locquacious. Thankfully, I have chutzpah.
There is always something nice to say.
Ok I said nice things. It was regrettable that I was sent there in error but perhaps it was a divine moment. A divine appointment.

Some little thing I said touched that woman and as I left she called me back for a close embrace and through tears thanked me (again).



Not quite yet right

Much better breathing wise.
Not too sure about the brain.


I did sweet Aunt Fannie today.
Nadda. No vollunteering no working no nothing.
Cogitated about my beloved shinies.

In the interests of my Smaug-i-ness I have decided to link this blog to my shiny things.

oh, how I loves my shinies.

--- *


Urge to Write

This isnt really writing its baaaah-logging.

I have always thought of myself as this painting:

Now almost dying seems to have made me pensive again.
Who am I? What have I accomplished with my life?
Would anyone miss me?

I read this list at http://cagedblackbird.blogspot.com/and I liked it.
These sorts of things make me try to define myself more accuratly..
Here I go with her list to make it mine.
And maybe SOMEDAY Wids will start typing too.

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

[1] Why was I born into such a crazy family?
[2] Why do I have such severe allergies?
[3] Why are people so mean?

[1] My altar
[2] Amethyst crystals
[3] Shiny things. Alot of very shiny things.

[1] Blogging
[2] Taking Spiritual Inventory
[3] Wondering how I am going to live another 5 years - months- weeks

[1] Publish a few (more) books
[2] See the Northern Lights
[3] Buy another Harley

[1] Zoom through a thrift store and find a treasure every time.
[2] Speak compassionatly to absolutely anyone.
[3] See the best in anyone.

[1] Forthright
[2] Bold
[3] Bright and sparkly

[1] Only 3? hmm.... swim?
[2] Leave my work undone
[3] Be willfully nasty.

[1] Loreena McKennitt
[2] The beating of a baby's heart
[3] The stories of your Elders.

[1] Television
[2] Propaganda
[3] Anyone who thinks they know the one true way.

[1] That's a blessing!
[2] Holy [----] !
[3] Buggerit! - bloody pissy buggery bollocks

[1] Chocolate covered strawberries
[2] Spinach
[3] Raspberries

[1] Fidelity
[2] Swimming
[3] Restraint

[1] Water
[2] Ginger ale
[3] Coffee

[1] Sinbad the Sailor
[2] Star Trek
[3] Bewitched

[1] Say nothing if there is nothing good to say.
[2] Show respect to others.
[3] Behave in a kind manner.

[1] A less challenged body
[2] An uninjured brain
[3] A less confused spirit

[1] wisdom
[2] softness
[3] everything

[1] life
[2] life
[3] life

[1] Humour
[2] Wisdom
[3] Companionliness

---------------------------------------------------------- +

Feel free to comment your own


- near miss

Live to fight another day.

It was an uneventful night in which I slept heavily.
In fact, I slept all day AND all night due to the incredible amount of medication in my system no doubt. It worked. That's all that counts.

Being in the bathroom at 3am clearing my throat manually and stuffing salbutamol down my throat every 30 seconds is NOT my idea of a good time. It is preferable to sleepwalk, talk or yell. One thing I realised is that my fear of death has diminished.
I was not nearly as panicked as last time.

Really and truly I suppose I should call 9-1-1 when these things happen.
I just...... well.... what are they going to do that I can't?


These stupid allergies go in seasons.
I bet if I would look through my blog (no wanna) I would find similar episodes in other years, at the same time. Except my giant blog-o-rama I deleted but this one may contain a rant about suchlike things as well.

Do I souynd scared?

Well yeah. I am.


Asthma, my nemesis

Oddly nemesis and emesis rhymne.

A horrid night was had by me.
I feel lucky to be alive.

Why is it even asthma attacks me in my sleep?
I bloody threw up in my sleep and almost choked to death.

Tonight I sleep with a tranquializer that will open my throat up, puffers at the ready and a telephone at my side.

Last night sucked the big one.
My response is to take the day off, and drug myself so my muscles are fooled intorelaxing. OF course I cant do anything else but hey: I'm alive


Things Remembered, not all with relish --*

Dear sweet ZeeZee sits in her kitchen snoozling as the National sings out more woes.
Waking her up, somehow within moments she is talking about ballroom dancing
(" And I was very light on my feet too!")

Normally contemptive, ZeeZee is veering to obsession about remembered slights.
Apparantly she weighed over 300 pounds. ("None of it was real weight you know, it was just water a Doctor told me years later.") ("My husband never believed it. He always told me I had a sweet tooth and most be sneaking chocolates or cookies.")

Her husband had a grand position with a MultiNational company and part of his job was to entertain important clients. On the occasion she is remembering with such vividness it was a formal dinner/dance at a swish dinnerclub.

" I lived on the scent of bananas and lettuce leaves and got myself down to under 150 pounds. I looked very very good. So I went out and got myself an elegant black dress with layers of crepe and tulle. And I LOOKED MARVELLOUS! I wasn't just slim I was really slim."

Oh how intently she reminded me of this.
Imperitive that I know that she truly was slim.

The happy couple went out with another to aforesaid swish spot, and immediatly the band began to play, her gentelman husband swooshed the client's wife out onto the dance floor.

" And then, as that woman walked all over my husbands feet, and my toes started twitching, the husband leaned forward and engaged me in desultory conversation.

"I never did get to dance that evening but his wife was absolutely exhausted. On the way home I said to my husband in the car ' I never even got one dance out of him.'"

ZeeZee rolled her chair closer to me and stared into my eyes.

" And do you know what he said? He looked at me and said: ' Well dear, face it. No man wants to drag a heavy woman across the dancefloor.

" He never even noticed that I was no longer heavy, but you see he could no more change his nature than turn into a toad."

Poor dear ZeeZee sitting in her beautiful home reflecting on 90+ years of ZeeZee-ness and her primary memory of the man who was her beloved is that.

I am glad she lives on in the Waterfront mansion and he is feeding the worms.

-=- More Changes -=-

With great sadness I have learned that the Nurse I identify with the most, has accepted a position far away from our Paradise but closer to her own.

She endeared herself to me permanently when I learned she backed up her spoken dedication to workplace wellness with actions. How I love to see management, oh pardon me, Management reaching out in equity and not down in imperiousness.
Aww, she will be so missed, *sniff*

Change change and more.
There has been entirely too much of it in our Region and now it is time for things to settle down. (please)

------ *

Positively speaking, the gentle soul who daughter attended to him so lovingly got his wish and died in his own home. I am very happy for that.

---- *


Neil Gaiman

If you have not checked out on my sidebar, the links to Neil Gaiman's blog, and hence, his exciting life, do so now.

He is an immensely readable author, and a damned interesting human being.
He does the famous thing rather well.

Not often I say those words about a writer.
He is pretty damned special.
Go look for yourself.

And buy his books.

An Echo and a Ripple

This last week I had the privilege to attend to a gentleman in his last days.
He is always an interesting man as he has kept his desire to interact even in these end times. I met him only a short few weeks ago when things were not going very well.
Thanks to good advice and better follow-up things are much better.

This day I come, he is bed-ridden in the living room. It is a good thing and he looks comfortable, although paler and thinner and I do not think there will be a next week for him. I give him a sip of water before he start to change things for him.

The woman floating in and out of the living room is familiar to me but I cannot quite get it. She was in the room a few weeks ago when I was here although I do not think that is where the memory is.

Just as I am finishing up, he looks up and says very loudly: "SHIT"

Well, by golly, it was not an expletive it was a descriptive.
I laughed out loud and he started singing: "Brown stuff brown stuff..

All right, perhaps a bit graphic for you or morbid but it was cute and funny and even his wife, usually so uptight laughed too.

So we cleaned up... again.

As I finished I was telling the wife she did not have to clean up for me... I can do it. But she did. The other familiar woman came over and said to me:
"I could never do your job. I don't know how you can do it and stay so calm and relaxed."

"Oh, you never know," I said, "I used to live in the big city and had a much different job until my own mother became terminally ill and I came here...

I looked at her.


She said to me: "You seem so familiar to me."

We took a hospice course together. All those years ago.
That course was the defining factor in my retraining.
Once I took it I knew I wanted to pursue palliative care.
For her, it was the other way. Once she took it she knew she had to move on.

I remember her well as her husband had early onset Alzheimers.
They were both active dynamic people. He was a health food, hiker,runner, holistic sort of fellow and it was a shock when he became unwell.

He was dead at 42.

So this is an echo and a ripple.
She looked great. She is remarried. And she is doing a very good job of helping her father in his last days.

Right on.

A Gem

To my delight, the Wordsmith is back on my rotation.
Oh what a pleasure to be doing anything at all for this wonderful man.
He greets me with:
" Are you as fit as you look?"

Well bless his heart for that.

He is asking me if I like poetry. Of course he remembers me but not the details of me or he would not be asking. We used to have word duels when I saw him all the time but he is 2 years older now and considerably frailer, and quite deaf.

Nevermind that, he is asking me if I like Noise?
He means Alfred Noyes and next I am hearing a recitation of
"The Highwayman.

Well naturally I know this as Loreena McKennit turned it into a song.
So he is chanting and I am singing as merrily we go along.

I love my job.

and this is a cute little rendition:

BAH! More Snow!

This Winter is getting very old. More severe weather warnings for my area, and more snow. If I wake up snowed in I will be most displeased. I need the $$
We do not get paid if we do not work. Like most people.

I had an interesting experience today.
I had a *change* in my schedule since I refused to return to the home of the hugger/rubber. I am not usually so picky but in this case I think it best just not to go there ---period--- since the person in question is generally very genteel and kind.
All the more reason it stunned me.

---- !

So the *change* was a lateral move so's to speak.
A couple in their 90's with dementias.... go help make sure they are all right and so on...

I go. He is deaf. Seems alot deafer when I try to speak with him than when everyone else does. And yes, there are quite a few people about. A team of house cleaners are around and a family member is taking a swim in the indoor pool.


All went well. I even had the wife down the hall and cleaned up which I announced to the stairwell as I left. The family were obviously surprised.

One of the housekeepers took me aside and said quietly:
"They don't usually like new people, they can be very difficult. You did very well.

OH great.


Do I sound spoiled?
It is only because it is becoming more and more common for all levels of staff to be put at greater and great risk as people with heavier dementias are staying at home longer.

So I traded a kisser and rubber/hugger for a possible puncher.



Old Goth's never die


Sitting listening to "Bela Lugosi's dead" in my goth playlist for the umpteenth time.

I wonder how it is that I never tire of this. Suddenly, and without warning, it occurs to me that this would make a suiting song for my funeral. You know-- everyone sitting so reverently and suddenly the bass line starts.... and the drums... and then a visual...

singing: Ï'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!

oh yes. I might have to arrange that for the *in case of accident* file.
After all, it's MY funeral!

-----@ @-----------

Another oddment;

When looking in Chapters for a daytimer....
.... 75% off all calendars and daytimers,

I found the one I liked best was titled:
Witches Datebook or some such thing
Witch and Witchcraft being the oh so noticeable words plastered everywhere.

I liked the daytimer with its woodcuts and planetary symbols etc..
There were dozens of really interesting moon facts and lots of celtic stuff.
Thus justified, I bought it. Today, my task was to modify it.

Not that I am ashamed of being a seeker, quester, knower of the arcane, fool stuffed full of foolery and other degrees of idiocy, but there is the family to consider.
And the clients.
And the bosses.
(altho I do know someone who sued the local health authority on the grounds that they disciminated against pagans)
Most of all, I dont want to scare the little kids, and of course there are always mothers and dads and religious zealots about. I love the volunteer job and do not want to offend willfully.

Inbetween my volunteer stuffs, I sat and pasted labels over every offending word: the cover was modified....the first few pages torn out... and various and sundry illustrations with the red button words pasted over.

Being a stellar kindergartener, I made celestial graphics and printed them in black and white and glue sticked them to the book. Then I coloured them.

Around about the time I should have been long gone, a little visitor was helping me. Her mom works there and she had to wait for the ride home. This little helper is no dumbie so I tried to distract her.

And then: The front door BURST open and a little gang of 11 year olds came in asking to use the telephone and all at once I have a little Christian crew exmining everything on the desk....


During the day I did notice a few of the staff gazing over to see what it was I was so diligently doing all the lib-long day. One or two even stood behind me *accidentally* but I wasnt admitting to anything (except to the bookkeeper who laughed almost as long as I did.)

So my new improved daytimer and I are fit for right-wing company.
This is the same group who had a prayer meeting on Halloweén night to counteract the evil being done.

What is really evil is the small focus. People are dying all over the world from starvation, aids, and ignorance. Now that is evil.

Nevermind the very few who are deluded about festivals and rituals.
The ability of we in the West to vilify one questionable thing, when there are such huge and obvious issues to tackle in this world of our God's is just stunning.

Africa needs us.
You. And me.


50 things about me.

Here goes:

1. I LOVE COFFEE. (and chocolate) (And coffee and chocolate)
2. I have a dog whom I adore.
3. I have an exaggerated sense of justice and despise social injustice above all.
4. I enjoy taking charge. I am a fair and capable boss.
5. I am very maternal in nature.
6. I have a very long fuse but once lit it flares quickly.
7. Since my teenage years, I have been on a quest of sorts.
8. I dream incredibly vividly and find equal pleasure in my dreamworld as in the physical realm.
9. Philosophy and religion interest me greatly. I suspect in other times, I would be burned at the stake.
10. I can only handle people one on one for any length of time.
11. My house is always messy, but clean, very clean.
12. Light and sound hurt me, because of a long-ago injury to my head/brain.
13. I enjoy Palliative care above all levels of nursing. Dying clients enjoy my company and frequently thank me profusely.
14. I believe strongly in giving back to the Community. I volunteer 5 to 8 hours a weeke, every week.
15. It is a privilege to perform my job to the complete and utter best of my ability.
16. People generally consider me convivial which I consider a huge personal triumph as it comes at much cost.
17. Few people would suspect my IQ tested above 167.
18. I want to see the Northern Lights for more than a week.
19. I love elegance. My home reflects that. It is very lovely.
20. People tell me the strangest things. I listen.
21. Travel does not interest me. I like my own bed, thank you very much.
22. Reading is my passion. I always have 3 or 4 books on the go.
23. I have yet to meet a man who could tolerate me, and more importantly that I could tolerate.
24. I'm single and loving it.
25. If I do get married, it would take a 2 carat diamond and a 100k cheque.
26. No, I am not kidding. "job Security" for all I would be giving up.
27. I do not smoke or drink. I dislike being in the company of those that do.
28. I can hang out online endlessly and enjoy it.
29. My personal motto is to "älways be a little kinder than necessary."
30. My private struggle is to exercise grace in all things.
31. I come from a very eccentric family. And I am no exception.
32. My Sagittarian traits are over-exaggerated. Particularly bluntness.
33. I handle crises exceptionally well.
34. I have more than a few clocks. Mechanical clocks are my favourite.
35. I collect sterling silver boxes.
36. I also collect religious ephemera.
37. I suffer from an assortment of parasomnias and take medication for them.
38. I have always believed that wealth for wealth's sake is an evil goal.
39. I can no longer read without glasses.
40. If I am sleep-deprived, I become disassociated from reality. Until my treatment for my brain injury, I slept 2 to 3 hours a night on average.
41. I trust almost noone. I never had reason to.
42. I believe in God. But I also believe there is a feminine divine.
43. I'm obssessed with boxes, glittery things, mexican pottery, and celestial thingamajiggies. Picking through the thrift is my joy.
45. I take myself out for breakfast to read the Saturday paper cover to cover happily.
46. I have more clothes than any ten other people. And I wear them all.
47. I love my cosy condo.
48. I love ambient music.
49. My favourite author is J.R.R. Tolkien. Neil Gaiman is close though.
50. I love to walk in Tolkien's world. MUD baby, t2t.org

Dreams dreams dreams

*~ ~ ~*

These last dreams were incredibly clear and some bizarre.
Morgostas was in the dream. And his lads. And his bike.

*~ ~ ~*

The next series of dreams I had featured me demonstrating my ability to levitate.
This proved to be an unfortunate judgement lapse as the people around me panicked like sheep, and firmly put me in the *them* category.

"Nonsense", I said. "There is nothing supernatural about this, it is merely a matter of will.

Dream me has incredible control of flying.

*~ ~ ~*

Whee! I'm Flying!


Syd Barrett is dead?


Well, I didn't get the memo!
This makes me sad, as I always felt I knew Syd. This was not because of any real relationship, but because he was always held up to me as an example of what happens to people who do too many drugs. (Or rather, CAN happen...)

Anyway Syd, this is for you.


Just "thinking" about it.

Does this scream "Mid-life Crisis"?

Weird Websight of the Day


Of course in my endless pursuit of the Truth, I see alot of variations.
Here is one such --------- Click

Now thats just bizarre.

Purge by Shopping

----------- +

I went shopping to the BIG CITY after work.
Naturally I forgot what I came for the moment I arrived so I went to the best place I could think of: The Book Store. After all, there are after Christmas specials to be had.

Being a dreamer of epic proportions, I was drawn to a dream manual. I bought it and another dream dictionary. Perhaps I can remember to jot key things down in those moments I am lucid in the nighttime.

Hopefully they will make more sense than the last time I had a truly inspirational dream and awoke with the feeling I had received a personal revelation that required documenting. I wrote about it and went back to sleep.

In the morning I anxiously grabbed for my journal to read my divine message.
I had written in clear round letters:
"very IMPORTANT dream. Must remember."

See how smart the sleep me is?
jeez louise


Feeling Dirty

Every lunch visit to the client is shorter than it should be. Oh, the tasks get done, but quickly. I sit and visit for a few minutes before I go.
The husband of the client is always very amiable.

Today he offered to show me the wishing well on the way out.
"When WE leave" he said.
A little flag went up in the back of my mind.

Finally I did actually get up and leave.
He followed me to the door.
"Can I have a New years Kiss?"
"uhm, no."

"How about a hug?"
He grabbed me and hugged me then rubbed himself back and forth across me.

Sorry, but it really upset me.
------------- +

Sexual harassment takes two forms: quid pro quo, where the employee must submit to sexual advances in exchange for job benefits or be penalized for refusing; or a hostile environment, where the atmosphere of the workplace is offensive and affects the employee's well-being. Offensive sexual conduct may include unwelcome advances, comments, touching, questions about marital status and sex practices, etc. Both men and women may be aggressors or victims.


Good Title

The name of my next collection will be:

"The Shrieking of Nothing"

A very good title indeed stolen most blatantly from a Bowie song
"Ashes to Ashes."


A concert with Bwana Wana and my backpack was stolen right off my back *and* my very best leath bomber jacket the one festooned with gold pins.... mostly 18ct gold....

Can you believe Duran Duran opened...?
And some Canadian band that I have made a point of forgetting...

My strongest memory was the Security guy telling me to wait til the show ended to check the floors... Yeah I waited in that damned BC Place Stadium-
the hired goon security guys were picking up everything of value and putting in their pockets, as was their right I suppose.

I had to go home in a camisole, a skimpy lace camisole and a tweed skirt with high boots.... and Bwana Wana was so outraged on my behalf...

Bowie was great though. I do not believe I have ever seen a bad Bowie show.
Seen him about 7 times over the years.
Every time was different, fresh and fabulous and great value for the $

Live happily ever after with Iman, Mr. B.

Meantime, thanks for the title.


I have the Dumb

I can't Brain Today

author unknown - please claim it



Yay! It's Friday and the choirs says: "AMEN!"
I saw a reasonably good film called: "The Devil Wears Prada".
Nothing earthshaking, just an amiable hour 20 or whatever.
Saw "Casino Royale" going in telling myself it was just a movie.
I had no hopes nor expectations and until about 45 mins in I was still just passingly engaged in it. Suddenly I realised I was RIGHT THERE and I enjoyed hugely the end.
Who knew?


Had a lovely email from my favourite niece. (They are all my favourites but Deli is especially favourite as she saved my life when I was lost.)
Isn't it funny how things go? She is studying about brain injuries and children with autism. Being an Asbergers kid was a challenge to everyone but me.
It was kinda wonderful knowing that I knew everything.


COLD today! Too darned cold.
Even the doggie didnt want to go outside. I opened the door to go for a walk with him and he peed on the shrub immediatly beside the door for 45 long seconds and then ran back in. Smart dog!


I have to study up on dermal metastescies.
I have to learn to spell it correctly as well.


Tonight I will be much more conversant with this.


There was sleep eating evidence on my nightgown.
I do believe I will take a pic of it when I get home and post it.
Too funny.
I went into the bathroom to brush my wires this morning and there was chocolate smeared all over my face.
No wonder the dog was kissing me.



No. 13 baby

Holy moly I love the Pixies.

This is possibly the best song ever.
No. 13 baby. (for No. 13 purists it starts at 03:45)

~Sing along with Black Francis~

(No. 13 Baby)

got hair in a girl
that flows to her bones
and a comb in her pocket
if the winds get blown
stripes on her eyes when she walks slow
but her face falls down
when she go, go, go
black tear falling on my lazy queen
gotta tattooed tit say number 13
don't want no blue eyes
la loma
i want brown eyes
i'm in a state
choir in the yard
in the house next door
where a grandma brought
some songs from the shore
six foot girl gonna
sweat when she dig
stand close to the fire
when they light the pig
standing in her chinos shirt pulled off clean
gotta tattooed tit say number 13
don't want no blue eyes
la loma
i want brown eyes
i'm in a state

Client Crap (things I cannot accept)

Because of the holidays, my workplace crew is minimal.
On top of that, it seems we had a few too many release from hospitals over the holidays.
This is a great thing, except we do not have the staff to service the needs of these people.

I saw two clients over the Christmas stats that spoke to my heart.
Both of these are male clients, both palliative, both in their own homes.
Both are nearing the end of their lives.
Both have family tending to most of their needs with some HomeCare nursing and some Home support.

Client 1 is hallucinating, shakey, in moderate pain and very upset about things having not yet accepted the inevitable. The family are visibly stressed and angry, and the atmosphere in the home is oppressive.

Client 2 is peaceful, accepting very invasive care and barely hanging in there.
When asked, he says the pain is managable. The family are emotional but supportive and the atmosphere in the home is one of quite bonding.

The difference?
Personalities aside, the difference is proper pain management.
When people are in terrible pain, they cannot waste energy on the pleasantries of life.

My little pet peeve is the Doctor who would release this gentleman back to his home, without ensuring there is a prescription on hand for some powerful sleep aides, and pain control.
Shame on them.

Next week, it won' t matter to the Doctor as this client will be in other realms.
But it matters to the families who remember every second of this time, and it matters to me.


=------------ * Resolutions for the New Year *


hmm I should prolly check on last years to see if I accomplished any before launching into more.

This year I resolve:

1--- To order a custom Harley from Morgostas' Iron Forge Choppers and have it delivered here to me in Paradise.

2--- To incorporate yoga into my life somehow, I want to be flexible.

3---- To follow my Doctor's instructions and try to live a year without a neural storm stopping me in my tracks.

4 ---- To publish at least a short story.

5---- To abandon fear.

6---- To make it to June and then enroll for the Activities Aide course. And complete it.

7--- To accept imperfection in myself as not only inevitable but desirable.

8---- As per the above: to love myself as myself and not strive to be something I cannot.

9--- To take at least one true vacation away from this Paradise.

10--- To renew old friendships. The ones I can remember at least.

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

2007 !

Here we are in 2007.

Started with a very busy but rewarding work day. Yes yes I worked the stat, grr grr.

I have some big opinions on events of this weekend but it will have to wait a few days.


Many blessings.