We had a wild day yesterday, weather wise.  It was above zero for much of the day and I went to the natural area to take Charlie for a walk.  As I was driving there, the wind started up and became very strong.  I was actually nervous walking in the woods, and heard a few branches falling, but the wind died down after a few minutes and he and I continued on our walk.  I took him home and then went to the school to pick up Jack because I had promised to drop off his 100 days of school project.  As I walked out of the house, the wind had picked up again and it had started snowing as well.  The snow squall lasted less than fifteen minutes and then it got cold.  Today it's bloody cold, no walks today.

We've had a guy here since Tuesday working on our bathroom.  The leak was found, the shower tap upstairs was slowly leaking.  Leak fixed, drywall replaced, tiles installed, and next week the vanity will go in and I'll repaint everything.  

I'm finally feeling better after starting the new BP med.  I did have a meltdown on Wednesday though.  Jack was up at 430am, so I was too.  I was fine in the morning but by suppertime I was hanging on by a thread.  I ended up putting myself to bed at 7pm, slept until 630am the next morning, and felt like a human being again.  Yesterday I didn't seem to have any fatigue thankfully.  I think the doc will have to increase the dose of the med though, because my BP has come down some, but it's not enough to keep it in the safe zone all day.  Baby steps.  At least I don't feel like I have a piano tied to my ass right now.

I'm trying to avoid the news.  The government in power in my province just put out a new budget which includes a significant deficit.  A few days prior to the budget there was a full court press, blaming new immigrants for all the new spending needed.  It makes me sick to know that there is a party in power that embraces racism and scapegoating.  I have written letters to make my concerns known but WTF people.  I hope the majority of people who voted this party in feel the same sort of dismay and anger that I do.  Did I just not notice how racist Alberta was all my life?  Or has it gotten worse?  It is unacceptable.

RIP mum.  Mum died thirteen years ago, I miss her still.  She had a wonderful sense of humour and believed very strongly that a good walk, fresh air, and a hot bath could do wonders for your health and general sense of well being.  She wasn't wrong.

I went to my pottery book club on Saturday night and had a wonderful time, although I was forced to paint a portrait of the person across from me:)  I am not artistic and I can't draw, or paint.  It was a good exercise for all of us I think, forcing us to try something new.  A portrait of a lovely lady, I've already apologized to her for my lack of artistic skills.

We talked about the book, and then talked about everything else.  These are good women who are wonderful to spend time with.  Plus there were three dogs, so lots of dog love.  

Poor Heidi vomited outside this morning, just outside the back door.  When Charlie came back in, he noticed the vomit and was trying to get it out of the snow (the vomit was frozen).  Now there are two magpies eating the frozen vomit.  Waste not, want not:)

My house is a mess right now.  The reno guys are coming tomorrow so hopefully the new vanity will be out of the dining room by the end of the week.  I still haven't put the binding on the quilt, busy and tired.  I'm still tired from the BP med, and hoping it will pass this week, or next week.

In the mean time it's snowing today, and still a little too cold to walk the dogs.  I still have painting to do in the bathroom, trim and the door.  A fresh coat of white paint always makes things look so nice.  Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.

The weather remains cold but it is warming up, enough for Heidi to sit outside for awhile and survey her yard.

The coversyl is working and my BP has dropped down to normal levels.  The only side effect I've had is fatigue which made falling asleep easy for a change.  Winning!  I'm still tired today so just taking it easy.  It's too cold to walk the dogs, their feets get cold, so I have a good excuse for staying inside.

The school called after recess and Jack had a bloody nose.  The principal called to tell me and said that Jack looked slightly more disheveled than usual.  Disheveled is a good word to describe him and I had to laugh.  Jack was fine, his nose had stopped bleeding, and I'll pick him up after school instead of him taking the bus.

I visited my girlfriend yesterday.  She lives in the West End of Edmonton and it only takes about thirty minutes to drive there.  To hear her talk, I live in Saskatchewan.  We had lunch and talked for three hours.  We talked about children, husbands, high school, memories, depression, money, and gardens.  She's now my oldest friend and I'm so thankful we have each other.

I'm spending the day listening to the radio and painting trim and doors in the bathroom, slowly, the painting, not the listening:)

A funny and a wish for a good weekend for everyone.

 

The quilt has been quilted together and all that remains is for me to sew the quilt binding to the quilt.  I had a doctor's appointment in Edmonton yesterday morning and thought I would stop at a fabric store while there but we had a blizzard yesterday and the roads were horrible.  I just wanted to get home.

I officially have high blood pressure and will start taking meds for it this morning when the pharmacy has them ready.  I'll be taking coversyl and the common side effects are:

Body aches or pain, chills, cough, difficulty breathing, ear congestion, fever, headache, loss of voice, nasal congestion, runny nose, sneezing, sore throat, and unusual tiredness or weakness.

Oh joy.  I suppose it's better than having my kidneys fail, or a heart attack or stroke.  Time marches on and my poor body is starting to show signs of wear and tear.  

We had a good dump of snow but the temperature has dropped down to -27C (-16F), and with the windchill it's -37C (-34F).  Not nice out but the school bus was still on time.  I had to laugh, last night I got a notification that Jack's bus would be ten minutes late, the notification came about ten minutes after he got home.

Our reno guy came by on Monday and his crew will be finishing up what I started in the bathroom/laundry room which will be nice.  We also went over what we want to do with the ensuite bathroom which I would like to get done in the fall.

Pottery class was cancelled today because of the snow and temperatures.  Our lovely teacher lives an hours drive away and that's just not safe today.  Fortunately, we are having pottery book club meeting on Saturday so we'll still get to see everyone and talk.  We'll probably even talk about the book, "Remarkably Bright Creatures" by Shelby Van Pelt.  It's the third time I've read the book and I enjoyed it as much this time around as I did the first time I read it.

It's too cold to walk the dogs today so I need to exercise in the house which I'm not a fan of, until I do it and feel good.  Then I think it's the most fabulous thing ever.  

I was feeling down and having a pity party a couple of nights ago at bedtime.  I may have cried for a few minutes because my life sucks so bad.  (It doesn't).  I woke up feeling much better and trying once again to have a different perspective on my life.

When I went to high school there was a girl who went to the same school as me, I'll call her Sandra.  She was everything I was not.  She was pretty and popular and she had nice clothes.  The bar is pretty low when you're fifteen years old.  I wanted to be her friend I think, or maybe just be her.  I really didn't know much about her.  

When I went to my twentieth high school reunion, I saw her there, and she was kind to me, knowing I needed encouragement to get up and dance with everyone else.  She was kind to me, such a small thing, and such a big thing that I still remember it almost thirty years later.

I've been winding through my brain lately, thinking about the past, writing things down, which led me to look for photos online of Red Deer in the 1970's.  I found some.  

Which led me to thinking about my life in general.  When we're young, the future is boundless, and so are our dreams.  As we get older, so many dreams wither away.  I wanted to be a veterinarian, a park ranger, and a jockey.  Then there was a photographer or a scientist. When I ended up as a nurse, I was so afraid to dream of anything other than being a regular floor nurse, so afraid of failing.  But still a part of me dreamed of working in ICU, of learning so much more.  I even interviewed for a job in ICU and failed the interview terribly.  I had not prepared and really didn't know much about ICU nursing other than what I had seen in my brief forays into the ICU.

What I ended up doing was casual nursing on medical units which actually gave me a very broad education. I worked on cardiology, pulmonary, GI, general medicine, a step down unit from ICU, palliative care and hemodialysis, with brief stints in orthopedic surgery, maxillofacial surgery, urology, and day surgery.   I ended up in diagnostic imaging where my broad education was actually a plus and I learned more.

From there I moved to oncologic imaging and worked at our local cancer clinic for fourteen years.  I took an intensive oncology nursing course and continued to learn more about cancers on my own.  I was a good nurse.  I listened to my patients, I had excellent nursing skills and could read my patient's body language quite well.  If I didn't know how to do something, I found someone who did know, and I learned.  

It wasn't the nursing career I imagined but I like to believe I did make a positive impact in people's lives. 

Which brings me back to the other night and Sandra.  In my mind Sandra has had a perfect life.  She has no disabled children, no ex-husband, no alcoholics in her life, no broken dreams.  I looked her up on facebook and she looks happy with her husband, they're travelling a lot.  In truth, nothing has changed.  I still know nothing about her, other than that she was kind to me.  I have no idea what her life has been like and I do know that most people (all people) have broken dreams, disappointments, and a great deal of grief to carry around with them.  

She's like my dream children.  When my children were born, they were perfect.  Katie was the hardest dream child to lose because it happened so early and so quickly.  My other dream children died much more slowly, but all of those deaths hurt just as deeply.  

So the other night I cried because life is never what we think it will be, nor is it ever perfect, not for anyone, not even for Sandra who I'm sure is still kind.

 Memories

One of my first memories is of a sink, tucked into a corner, under the stairs in our house in Germany.  I have another memory of a road with train tracks across it.  The last memory I have before I was three years old, is landing at Heathrow airport.  I looked out the window and could see all the lights below.  A flight attendant had given me a little plastic bracelet and I thought that was the most wonderful thing.  I have no other memories of Germany except occasionally a German word will pop into my head. 

                                                             Me at 15 months.

Mum and dad arrived in North Bay in 1965, with two teenage daughters and two children under the age of three.  Dad would have been 45, and mum would have been 41.  Dad worked as a fire fighter and on his days off he drove trucks, both moving trucks and dynamite trucks.  He was seldom home and I have few memories of him.  Mum was home full-time and my sisters lived with us until they either went to nursing school or got married, we were insulated from Dad and his anger. What I do remember is days spent roaming the woods behind our PMQs (permanent married quarters).  We didn't live on the base, but I do remember dad taking us to the base at least once to look around.  

We lived on Lake Heights road and there were two lakes within walking distance of our townhouse, Trout Lake and Circle Lake.  I just looked up Circle Lake and it was a five minute walk from our house but we didn't swim there, no beach at the lake.  I do remember a little store that sold candy bars there though so that was a draw for us.

Trout Lake was a little further, a twelve minute walk, although with two little kids, it probably took twice as long.  We would go there in the summer time to swim and wade in the lake.  There were no toilets at Trout Lake but there was an empty lot, filled with trees, across the street where mum would take us when my brother or I had to poop.  If we had to pee mum would say, "Just go pee in the lake."  All peeing was done in the lake:)  

One summer mum took me and my brother to Birchaven Cove Park for swimming lessons.  Neither one of us learned to swim and the swimming instructor threatened to bring a whip for the next lesson if my brother didn't put his face under the water.  I don't think we went back but who knows.

Right behind our townhouse were "The Rocks".  They were cliffs really, until I went back at the age of sixteen and discovered that the rocks were about five feet high at most.  Behind the rocks were "The Woods" where we ran freely all day in the summer.  It was peaceful.  Past the woods was a car scrap yard and beyond that was Birchaven Cove Park.  I think "The Woods" is where my love of trees began.  

PMQs in the 1960's were filled with children, the baby boom.  We walked to school on our own, played in the woods on our own, there were sand lots filled with children, and we stayed out of our parent's way.  There was no shortage of friends.  One summer night all the kids played something called "Sit Down and Have a Cup of Tea" which basically involved the older boys piling all of the younger kids into a heap; the older boys were careful and nobody got hurt, just lots of laughing.  We also played tag, hide and seek, and marbles.  It was heaven for me.

Both of my sisters got married in 1969 and I was the flower girl at both weddings.  Their weddings were six weeks apart and they both wore the same wedding dress.  My sisters are identical twins.  The one thing I most remember about their weddings is that I was six and the bouquet that I was carrying had to be turned out towards the people attending the wedding, so that they could see the beautiful flowers.  I thought that was terribly unfair because I wanted to be able to look at the flowers.  I also had no front teeth and was given strict instructions not to smile with my lips open.  When my sister S. got married, I found a bag of confetti and dumped it into her suitcase, prior to her and her new husband leaving on their honeymoon (in Aruba, so exotic).  I was quite proud of myself and I'm sure my sister cursed me.

One day I came home from school, maybe grade two, and our basement was filled with all of my oldest sister's furniture and belongings.  She had left her husband after less than a year of marriage.  What we didn't know, what I didn't know, is that he was an alcoholic.  I'm sure there was lots of talking between my parents and my sister and she ended up going back to him before we left North Bay in 1970.  I remember visiting their apartment once and loved it because it had a fire escape which I had never seen before.  I idolized that sister.

In September 1970, Dad turned fifty and was forced to retire.  I was eight years old and our life changed.  Dad decided he wanted to return to Vancouver Island to be closer to his family.  He stopped in Red Deer to visit old friends from the military and found a job and a house to buy.  My parents had lived in Red Deer in the 1950's, dad had been posted there and I guess they had good memories of the place.  Now that I think of it though, Red Deer is where one my sisters was hit by a truck, ended up in a coma for a week, and was left with a brain injury.  Maybe not good memories, maybe PTSD.  Regardless, that's where we moved.

Before we left North Bay, mum took me for a haircut.  I had longish hair and she had it all cut off.  I don't know why, maybe mum was tired of listening to a child complaining about knots in her hair.  Mum's hairdresser's name was Mrs. Fink, I do remember that, and she cut my hair short at a time when few girls had short hair.

We left North Bay in the dark by train and travelled for days.  There was no milk for my cereal on the train, only coffee cream which was gross.  My brother and I were the only kids in our car and we spent a lot of time exploring.  At night we had our own little bunk beds with curtains, another very cool thing in my mind.  

When we arrived in Calgary, we had to change trains to travel to Red Deer.  It was September and all I remember is looking out the window and seeing nothing but fields of golden wheat.  In the middle of nowhere our train stopped at a station and that was Red Deer.  My dad was there to greet us but when he helped me off the train he didn't recognize me with my short hair and asked mum where I was.  I still remember that.  

Dad drove us to a hotel, where we stayed for a week while the sale of the house was going through.  Probably the first night we were there, dad took mum and us to see the house they were buying.  The people had a little poodle and the back yard was huge with a sidewalk that "looked like a drunk had laid it", according to my dad.  And that's how I came to live in Red Deer.

How to change a vanity in your bathroom/laundry room.

Order vanity and faucets.

Leave them in the garage for a few months.

Take a photo of the before bathroom, include cat laying on register.

Attempt to remove tile on wall behind sink.

Tile firmly attached to wall (I did it myself) and wouldn't come off.

Decide to cut the drywall and tile off the wall as one unit.

Sink is securely attached to tile (because I did such a good job tiling).

Turned off water to sink and finally managed to remove pedestal sink.

Cut tile and drywall out of the wall.

Two bolts which held the sink up now sticking out of wall.

Tried to cut them off with a Dremel tool.

Unable to cut through bolts with a Dremel.

Went to hardware store and bought a hack saw.

Bolts cut off.

Looked up and saw that ceiling had a yellow spot.  Sigh.

Decided to remove ceiling stipple to better see yellow spot.

Ceiling damp and now the tiny flies in my bathroom upstairs make sense.

Toilet must be leaking.

Text husband and then handyman.

Handyman will come this weekend to give us a quote for replacing ceiling and fixing leaking toilet.

Belatedly remove everything else from bathroom/laundry room.

Put on an N95 mask.

Continue on with removing stipple from ceiling.

Stipple everywhere.

Vacuum up stipple.

Wonder why vacuum doesn't seem to be sucking up stipple very well.

Open vacuum to check the bag.

See that vacuum is full of dog hair, on top of the vacuum bag.

Vacuum hose was not attached to bag.

Remove dog hair, Katie hair (I gave her a haircut), cat litter, and stipple from vacuum.

Take photo of garbage:)

Put new bag in vacuum.

Document everything on my blog.

And now I get to vacuum everything and wash the floors, as well as myself.

Myself is covered in stipple:)

 

Another bit from instagram and goodneuroscience.

Brain imaging studies found that writing about your emotions calms the amygdala-your brain's threat detector.

When you write about something painful, you're externalizing it- getting it out of your head and onto paper.  This process helps create mental distance from the experience and reduces the cognitive load of holding onto it.

Writing activates multiple brain regions at once-areas involved in memory retrieval, decision making, and language processing.  This complex cognitive task helps convert short term memories into long term ones, making it possible to reframe difficult experiences.

Labeling your emotions, even with expletives, has measurable effects.  It reduces activity in the amygdala while increasing activity in the prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain involved in planning and problem solving.

This shift in brain activity moves you from automatic emotional reactions toward more deliberate responses.  Instead of being overwhelmed by feelings, you create space to observe them and decide how to act.

Even making a simple to do list activates brain regions involved in reasoning and decision making.  Getting thoughts out of your head and onto paper helps you regain focus and feel less scattered.

The research points to specific practices that make writing more effective for emotional regulation and mental clarity.  These aren't complicated, but the way you write does matter.

Writing by hand requires greater cognitive coordination than typing does.  This naturally slows your thinking process and allows more time for information processing and meaning making.

You don't need to write pages to see benefits.  Brief daily notes about what happened, what you're feeling, or what you're planning can help reduce rumination, the mental loop that keeps you stuck on the same thoughts.

One research backed practice is writing before you react.  When strong feelings hit, putting them on paper first supports reflective thinking and helps you respond with more clarity and intention.

Another effective approach is writing letters you never send. Addressing your feelings directly to a person or situation provides a safe outlet for processing emotions without the pressure of some else's reaction.

Writing works best when you treat it as a process.  Drafting something and revisiting it later helps you practice perspective taking, which research shows strengthens self awareness and builds confidence over time.

Your journal entries, the emails you draft, the lists you make, these aren't just words on paper.  They're evidence of your brain adapting and regulating.  They're proof of resilience in action.

I read this on instagram the other day and saved it.  It's me.  It's why I need to write, to get shit out of my head because there is a lot of shit in my head. 

I'm having a bit of a hard time right now, feeling like an utter failure because I am me and apparently "me" is unacceptable to some.  

We've had record high temps here and it feels like the snow is melting as quickly as it arrived.  I took Charlie to the wilderness trails rather than the dog park yesterday.  Dogs have to stay on leash on the wilderness trails which is what Charlie needs.  He had a great time and we both got fresh air and exercise amongst the trees and the chickadees.

I read this the other day on instagram, about children with ADHD and shared it with my husband.  It helps us understand Jack so much better.

 1. They follow you from room to room

It’s not “clinginess.” It’s connection. Being near you helps them feel regulated and safe.

2. They interrupt you (constantly)

Not out of disrespect - but because their brain wants to share something with you before it disappears.

3. They save their hardest moments for you

This is the big one. They fall apart with the person who feels safest. It’s not defiance - it’s trust.

4. They show you their creations, collections, or obsessions

A rock, a drawing, a Minecraft build - this is them offering you a piece of their world.

5. They ask you to watch them do the same thing over and over

It’s not attention-seeking. It’s connection-seeking:

“Do you see me? Am I worth your time?”

6. They get silly, loud, or playful around you

That’s joy. That’s comfort. That’s “I feel free with you.”

7. They crawl into your space at the end of the day

To lean on you, flop on you, or wrap around you - their nervous system is asking for co-regulation.

8. They try again after a meltdown

This is courage. This is repair. This is love in action.

Kids with ADHD don’t always say “I love you” with words.

They say it with intensity… with presence… with trust…

and with the moments they save just for you.

I think our neighbors are taking care of a friend's dog, a large labradoodle, and this offends Charlie.  It is his job to protect our/his yard from all invaders both domestic (dogs) and foreign (squirrels).  He take this job quite seriously.

I took Katie out for lunch yesterday.  It was fine until we were almost back to her place and then she attacked me, hair pulling, head butting, and scratching. I put the car in park and then I gave up and started crying which seemed to startle her and she let go.  Note to self, cry next time too.  

I dropped her off and went home but got a call a couple of hours later.  There were two relief staff and Katie did not like that, strangers in her house.  You can't really blame her.  I went back, there was ice cream and she finally took her pills including extras for pain and agitation.

Today she had a doctor's appointment for her US results.  When I went to pick her up, she was naked and covered in shit, screaming and crying.  I got her into the shower and cleaned her up but she was still upset so I left her at her place and went to see the doctor on my own.

She has cysts on both sides, follow-up US in three months, and keep taking the naproxen and add tylenol to it.  If things gets worse again, take her to emergency again.  In three months we'll decide what to do.

For now, watch and wait.

My shoulders are up around my ears and I was short with Jack tonight, but I did explain that I was worried about his auntie and that I didn't have enough band width to deal with any nonsense.  He was good about it.  

Before supper he did say this his life was so hard and he didn't know how he was going to deal with it as he got older.  He was most worried about puberty.  He's fucking six.  My husband and I confirmed that we had both survived puberty and that he would too.

In the tub tonight he listed all the things wrong with him, asthma (very mild), ADHD (welcome to the club, nothing you can do about it), and he thought he might need glasses.  OMG child.  He's just like me.  I told him that I would make an eye appointment for him.  His last one was fine.

I also don't have the bandwidth to read or comment much on blogs.  My apologies.

I saw this meme and it hit home right now.