When I was a young woman, I didn't like myself, or my personality.  I always wanted to be a better person, less impatient, less angry, less judgemental, and less impulsive.  Turns out that these are all part of who I am and all part of ADHD.  

I'm in my sixties now and I have mellowed.  I also understand ADHD much better and what happens when I become overstimulated, or too hungry, and now I try to take steps to fix that before all hell breaks loose.  I'm also trying to teach Jack that as well, but it's hard because he's so much like me.  I'm much kinder to myself now, which is good, and I want Jack to be kind to himself as well.  It's not easy because sometimes I feel too broken to be of much help to him, but I try.

I think the best thing about getting older, is this acceptance of myself, including my flaws.  I will never be as patient as some people (my husband), but I can see both sides of an argument.  I will never stop being impulsive, but I have learned to think things through, and I've also lived long enough now to know how things work out.  It's not my first time, or even my fifth time around the track. I know what will happen with certain actions because I've already done it, or seen someone else try something and fail.  

I'm still judgemental which is something I struggle with but sometimes judgement is required.  It's funny, judgement is okay, but judgemental is not okay.  Like anything, too much is not usually a good thing. 

I have a strong sense of responsibility (raising my grandson) but I'm also resentful at times that I'm raising my grandson.  This causes me some cognitive dissonance and now that I know what cognitive dissonance is, I can address it.  I believe Jack is our responsibility but I often chafe against the restraints of raising a six year old in my sixties.  I felt the same way about Katie, and god knows Katie had a huge hand in shaping who I am today.  On the upside, I'm still playing soccer in my sixties, so there's that:)  They are both my hard gifts.

I think what I like best about myself, is my sense of humour.  Yesterday I had to take Katie to see her doctor for her annual physical which is always an ordeal.  The receptionist and I were trying to get Katie to stand up straight so the receptionist could measure Katie's height.  We were all three of us in a tight corner and the receptionist is an old lady, who is also very short.  As we're trying to get Katie to cooperate, because she doesn't understand what we want, Katie leans forward and kiss the receptionist on the cheek.  I started laughing and I have a loud laugh.  Everybody was kind of chuckling by the end of it, and the doctor also got a hug and a kiss.  Miss Katie also has an excellent sense of humour, her favorite thing, swear words, they make her laugh, which makes me laugh.  We're quite the pair.

 

Bagheera looking out the front door and Charlie sleeping close by.  He wanted to keep an eye on the cat, but couldn't keep his eyes open.

We had a BBQ last night and the nurses I used to work with came.  It was lovely and low key.  One of the nurses is now on permanent disability (back surgeries) and I hadn't seen her in a year.  She just kicked her boyfriend of six years out of her apartment and will be moving into her father's condo who is now in extended care.  What I didn't know is that her ex-boyfriend was/is emotionally and physically abusive.  She has a restraining order, changed the locks, and is moving.  My heart breaks for her but I'm so proud of her as well for standing up to him and taking back her life.  She looked like her old self.

The nurses traded gossip, talked about the changes at work, talked about managers and directors and docs, kids played in the yard and treefort, and we ate burgers and hotodgs.  Nothing fancy, just good company. It was the best evening I've had in a long time.  Lots of love and laughter. 

Last weekend Jack didn't get to visit his mama because the aunt/guardian who usually surpervises their visits was in BC for the long weekend.  She didn't bother to tell us or Gracie that she would be out of town.  Gracie's mom was also out of town, at the lake.  I was angry that Jack got screwed over because nobody could be bothered to communicate with us or each other.  What really happened is Gracie's sister hates confrontation, so instead of dealing with Gracie, she left it up to her mom who didn't tell anyone, because her children are adults and should be dealing with things themselves.  

This weekend, I contacted everybody ahead of time because I am tired of all the drama, anger, and bullshit.  Jack is visiting his mom now.  I hate being the only adult in the room.

Otherwise, not much going on.   

Charlie and I got out for a walk after the rain.  The yellow flowers, roundup ready canola, or herbicide resistant canola that grows everywhere and you can't kill. Thanks Monsanto.

I've been busy since we got back from Jasper, end of school mostly.  The evenings are lovely, so there is soccer in the back yard now.  At least if I fall in the back yard, someone can help me get up.  We've had a ton of rain, one night we had four inches in a few hours and basements were flooding.  Fortunately our sump pump kept up and no flooding.  I don't need one more thing right now.

The zinnias I started from seed in March are all blooming, next year I'll plant more.  They are such an easy plant to grow and I'm a huge fan of easy to grow.  Work continues on the shed and it looks beautiful.  I'll take a pic when it's all done.

I took the dogs for walks this morning before it got too hot.  The pond is full and the ducks are happy, so are the pelicans, but I didn't get a good shot of them.

My best friend has cancer.  She has a type of cancer called multiple myeloma.  It's a rare type of cancer and only accounts for 1%-2% of all cancers.  She doesn't like to call it cancer because she'd rather not have cancer.  Fair enough.  I think most cancer patients have some kind of denial to help them cope with the day to day crap of living with cancer.

My friend had a stem cell transplant, seven years ago I think.  It worked well but she has to stay on chemo until the chemo no longer works, and I imagine at that time the the multiple myeloma will come back with a vengance.  It's not a nice type of cancer, none of them are really.  There is no cure, only treatment.

Here's the thing though, you don't die of multiple myeloma per se.  You die of pneumonia, or kidney failure, or sepsis.  Multiple myeloma grows in our bone marrow, plasma cells are transformed into cancerous cells and their growth crowds out the normal cells that help us fight infection, so our bodies are overwhelmed with an infection, unable to fight back.

The kidney failure comes into play because of a protein produced by multiple myeloma called M protein, and too much calcium in the blood; combined, these two things overwhelm the kidneys and cause damage.  There's too much calcium in the blood because multiple myeloma causes bone lesions and a breakdown of bones.

I did mention it was not a nice type of cancer.

Anyway, I called her two days ago and she had just gotten out of the hospital.  She had pneumonia, ended up severely dehydrated, delirious, and very sick.  She was fainting and hallucinating. This is the second time she has had pneumonia in the past 18 months.

What I haven't told you, is that she is supposed to call me when she is sick, so that I can check on her, take care of her, etc.  She didn't do that. Her daughter calls everyday to check on her, and her daughter was concerned because her mom wasn't making any sense.  The daughter then called her auntie to check on my friend and that auntie (my friend's sister) took seven hours to get to my friend's house.  She only lives thirty mintues from her sister.

An ambulance was called, my friend was shipped off to the hospital where they fixed her up with antibiotics and lots of fluids.  She could have died, at home, alone.  Another day and she could have gone into kidney failure or developed sepsis.

I read the riot act to my friend.  I told her how people with multiple myeloma die (she knew).  I explained that I will always help (she knew).  She hates asking for help but I think this scared her enough that she will ask for help.  My friend has spent her whole life taking care of other people and doesn't know how to accept care, yet.

Her daughter now has my phone number and I have told her to call me whenever she has concerns about her mother.  I have the daughter's phone number, and next time I am at my friend's house, she's giving me a key so that I can get in without breaking a window.

In two weeks my friend and I are heading out on a road trip to Vancouver, to visit our respective daughters, a trip we've been talking about for years.  Why do we put things off?  Life, I know, it's busy.  But things can get too late.  I don't want this trip to be too late.  

This first photo is a pitcher that I made in my last pottery session.  It turned out much better than I thought it would and I love the colour.  It's not very big, not big enough to use as a jug, but maybe I'll put flowers in it, or just admire it.  Strangely enough, it also matches the colour of some of the pillows on the couch.

The next photo is a utensil holder that I'm working on.  It's quite large, which made it much harder to work on, and I used grass seed heads to decorate it.  I like how it's turning out.  I've been having problems with cracking, and spoke to my instructor.  She told me to cover it loosely with plastic and let it dry more slowly, so I'm doing that.  Have I mentioned how impatient I am?

 

I had made another larger pitcher, it was the size of a teapot,  but it cracked as it dried.  The beauty of clay is that you just smash it, and rehydrate it (as long as it hasn't been fired yet).  So I did that and haven't lost any clay.

I don't feel like doing much today, my legs are a little sore from my workout yesterday, so I tried to build a mug.  I worked on it for a good hour, but it wasn't working, so I smashed it too, and will try again another day.

It's good practice for me.  I can make something, smash something, and then try again.  I watch pottery tutorials and I want so bad to make the same beautiful things, and then remember that these people have years of practice behind them.  Patience grasshopper.

Jack is now done school for the summer.  He starts grade one in September.  He's growing so fast.  He even mentioned it this morning.  He told me that soon he would be as tall as me.  Not quite, but he is growing.  Right now he spends every possible moment outside.  He has a tree fort, wood, nails, and a hammer.  Of course he has hit his fingers, but he's getting better.  He's also helping poppa build the shed.  Last night he was on the shed, either drilling holes, or screwing in screws.  I wasn't paying attention, poppa was.

It seems awful that Gracie is missing all this, but she never calls or texts to see how he is.  I know she is messed up, but still, it boggles my mind.  Jack is her child.  Or course my son is even worse.  He never sees either of his sons.  

That's it for now.  Life goes on, despite all the fuckery from t-rump.  

On the Yellowhead highway, not far from Jasper.  We're home again and had a good time.  The hotel we stayed in had a pool which is Jack's favorite, so we swam every afternoon before supper.  His swimming is improving and I got a chance to exercise my shoulder, and body in general.  It was hard with the three of us sleeping in one room and I think all of us were happy to get home and sleep in our own beds.  

Jack had a great time and kept saying it was the best day ever!  Everyday:)  I tried some hiking with him but rediscovered my instense fear of heights.  I tried going up Old Fort Point, the stairs were fine, but the height was too much, along with the cliff, and the Athabasca River roaring along at the bottom of that cliff.  

I'm not young anymore, and I'm definitely not safe on my feet anymore.  Uneven footpaths throw me off and leave me unbalanced.  It didn't feel safe and I had a six year old with me.  I started to cry and Jack held my hand as I explained I was afraid of heights, and he took care of me, all the way back down.  

I tried taking him to the Athabasca glacier, but he said it hurt his legs too much.  It wasn't that much of a hike, less than 2 km, and only one steep spot with tons of people walking the path.  I took him back down, and went back up by myself which was nice, no place to fall off of.

Despite Jack being impulsive, he did a good job and respected the scary parts of Jasper.  We did point out that the river would kill him if he fell in.

We drove to the Moberly Homestad on Celestine Road when we were in Jasper.  We hadn't been there since before covid and didn't know there had been a fire there in 2022, but everything was coming back.  The Moberly Homestad was home to Metis families that were forced off the land when Jasper National Park was formed.  It's a beautiful valley with mild weather and must have been a wonderful place to live.

 

So we're home and I sold my condo finally.  Yesterday the buyer was jerking me around, but everything got sorted out finally, and it sold for $100 over list price.  Long story.  I'm just glad it's sold and I won't have to worry about it again.  Now we just need to get hubby's house sold and we'll be down to one house to worry about.  Blogger is now doing some weird shit with my paragraphs, so I'm going to stop.

Me and Jack.

Pyramid mountain.

 Athabasca River.

After the fire.

Athabasca Falls

Saskatchewan River.

Wildflower.

Sunwapta Falls.

 Icefield parkway.