As I lay in bed last night thinking about drugs and alcohol (as one does), I thought about my own life as well.  I was listening to a podcast the other day about the use of Miltown, one of the first drugs manufactured to treat anxiety.  The podcaster pointed out that there has always been anxiety in the world but people's options were limited in how to deal with that anxiety.  Alcohol has been around a long time, 9000ish years, and opium, 7000ish years, both have been used medicinally and recreationally.  Addictions to both opium and alcohol have been around a long time too, probably about 9000ish and 7000ish years.  So I was thinking about all of this as I tried to fall asleep and then I thought about trying to teach Jack resilience and wondered how on earth can I teach him resilence when I don't feel that I have resillence.

And then I thought, "but all the shit you've lived though, and you're not a drug addict or alcoholic", if that isn't resilence, then what is?  So maybe I can teach Jack how to be resilent.  How I do it isn't pretty, but I've survived a lot in my lifetime, and have lived 62 years as someone with ADHD and no medications, and no self medications.  Not too shabby.

In other news, my son has already started playing his control games.  I've probably pissed off Jack's other grandma when I told her that I wasn't going to let my son hurt Jack, the way her daughter has hurt Jack.  My shoulders are already sore from tension.  So much for my fucking reslience!  

I'm going to visit my friend this afternoon.  She'll listen to my complaints, she won't judge, and at the end of it, she'll hug me.   

I finally broke down and cut some flowers because Boud and Ms. Moon always seem to have lovely bouquets in their homes.  I used the pitcher I made in the spring as a vase and it's sitting on my kitchen island where I can enjoy it.  It does bring me joy.

I spent some time in my garden yesterday, digging up and moving things.  Digging up invasive (although very pretty) plants like lamnium and anenomes.  They tend to just choke out everything else, kind of like yarrow.  I love yarrow though and I just yank it out if it gets out of hand.  

I planted raspberries a couple of years ago and that bed no longer has any room for anything, except raspberries.  I moved a huge hosta and some astilbe and put them by my new shed (not quite finished, but close).  I also moved a couple of ligularias and a bleeding heart which had become far too big for the front of a bed.  Of course, all of these beds need protecting from rampaging dogs:)  There is still ranunculus and a couple of other things that need to be dug up and rehomed.  On the upside, no need to buy anything at the greenhouse.

My apple tree blossomed this spring, but only one apple is growing, and it's a very sad looking apple.  We had such strange weather this spring I guess the pollinators and the cross pollinations didn't all coordinate, maybe next year.

I made my first saskatoon berry pie yesterday.  It was nice but the berries don't have a huge amount of flavour, not like raspberries.

Dog walks, laundry hanging on the line.  I'm going to see Cynthia this afternoon, taker her some pie and check on her.

I just finished reading "Something Like Happy" by Eva Woods, perhaps not everyone's cup of tea, but I loved it.  Made me cry a lot last night though.

We leave for Penticton in eleven days so I'm trying to plan ahead for that and for Jack going back to school.

My son visited Jack on Saturday, first visit in four or five years.  It went well.  My son is sober and has a job now but I'm not holding out much hope.  This has happened so many times in the past.  I suppose time will tell.  At least my son kept Jack entertained for a couple of hours and I got to read and work in the yard.

 Mostly, life is good and I'm thankful for that.  Humour remains, despite the fuckery in the world.

We're back home and the drive and the vacation were wonderful.  The best part of a vacation, no meals to plan, no laundry, no housework.  The worst part about coming back, meals to plan, laundry to do, and housework.

I worked out how many hours Cynthia and I talked and it was at least 32 hours.  We talked all the way to Vancouver and all the way home.  Then we talked every night in bed.  She's getting better, the cough has almost stopped and she's not as tired as she was when we started out.  She got to see some waterfalls, and we stopped so that she could wade in the Athabasca River (there is one spot on the highway where the river is so wide and shallow that it warms up).  We also stopped in Clearwater and Hope, two places she'd never stopped at before.  I wanted to take her to Wells Grey Provincial Park but she wasn't feeling well enough to do that.

While we were in Vancouver, we went our respective ways and spent time with our daughters.  I went to two botanical gardens, another garden, an amazing beach (Jericho), went shopping at Granville Island with my daughter, and walked (a lot).  My daughter wanted to sit on a patio and day drink, so we did that, while eating guacamole.  The weather was amazing, not too hot and not to cold.  Just right. 

Cynthia's son came over from Victoria and Cynthia, her son, her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend all went to the memorial service of Cynthia's 30 year old niece who died from a brain tumour.  They spent time talking, visiting, Cynthia got to nap, and Cynthia and her daughter got matching tattoos.

The B and B sucked a little, no English breakfast as advertised, had to ask for towels and an extra key (we ended up cutting our own and leaving it with the owner), but the beds were comfy and the shower was nice.  It was also the least expensive of all the places I had looked at and close to where both of our daughters live.  Vancouver hotel rooms are ridiculously expensive.  

And what did we talk about?  Everything.  Husbands, death, children, cancer, tattoos, family, taking care of other people, grief, anger, depression, nature, birds, waterfalls, alcoholism, friends, drug addicts, fear, even a little politics.  It was good, for both of us.

It was a wonderful road trip and I'm hoping we can do it again.

 

My girl and her fiance at Pajos at Port Moody.  My favorite place to have fish and chips.

My granddog at Queen Elizabeth Park.

 

View of Vancouver from Jericho beach.

False Creek and Science World.

Queen Elizabeth Park.

Terrifying canopy walk at UBC botanical garden.

Calendula.

Cosmos.

 UBC botanical garden.

I have lots to say about our trip, but no time right now.  We both had a wonderful trip and wonderful visits with our daughters.

We are good to go on the road trip.  My friend's pneumonia is gone, but she does have a new virus which is what was causing all the coughing.  The liver issue is a mystery right now, but isn't going to kill her in the next week.  She's been thoroughly checked over and has all the info printed out, should we need to stop at another hospital emergency.  Hopefully we'll just be stopping for waterfalls and pee breaks.

Actual photo of me and Cynthia.  I'm wearing the hat:)

I'll be driving along this road again in two days, which I'm looking forward to very much.  Turns out my girlfriend's husband would never stop while they were driving, so now we'll be stopping as much as she wants.  We'll also make a stop at Wells Grey Provincial Park to see some of the waterfalls and spend a night in Clearwater.  

Jack is going to spend a week with his grandma while I'm gone so my husband will get a holiday as well:)

My small pottery factory continues while I wait for fall potterry classes resume.  So far I have three mugs, an embossing plate, a crock for my utensils, and today I made another small pitcher.  I enjoy the process and the learning.  I have also made numerous pieces which have not survived.  I rewet the clay and try again.

 

My provincial government continues to suck with horrible laws and policies.  Miss Katie lives on something called AISH (Assured Income for the Severely Handicapped), $1900/month.  The federal government has introduced a Canadian Disability Benefit (CDB) for all disabled Canadians, $200/month.  Our provincial government (I spit on them) has decided that they will reduce AISH by $200/month and are forcing all people on AISH to apply for the CDB.  If Katie doesn't apply for the CDB, her AISH will still be reduced by the $200/month.  Basically they're stealing the $200/month from disabled people, or $180 million a year.  And the provincial government also raised affordable rent for disabled people by $220/month, while they're taking away money.  It's disgusting.

I need to change the subject because this government makes me so angry, sowing dissension and gaslighting people.

I'm off to walk the dogs because I like my dogs and they make me happy.  The sun is shining and it's not supposed to get too hot today so I won't melt.  I'm retired and I have time.  I live with a six year old who has the most amazing imagination (although that's a positive and a negative at times).  My hubby gives the best hugs.  I have a roomba to vacuum up the bales of dog hair my dogs keep shedding.  I get to see my middle daughter in three days!

Update.  Just talked to my girlfriend on the phone and I told her she needs to go to Emergency again, elevated liver enzymes and congested lungs again.  Fuck!

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.