I'm rereading "Remarkably Bright Creatures" by Shelby Van Pelt for my book club.  One of the lines near the beginning of the book caught my attention and resonated with me.  "Tova has always felt more than a bit of empathy for the sharks, with their never-ending laps around the tank.  She understands what it means to never be able to stop moving, lest you find yourself unable to breathe."  When I read that, I felt it.

I'm retired now.  I don't have to go to work four days a week.  I can relax, but I can't relax.  I try to relax and I am getting a little better, but I push myself all day long.  This morning I started making tomato sauce at 6:30am, while Jack watched TV.  I took the dogs, one at a time, for long, hard walks.  I did laundry, shopped for groceries and then had some lunch.  It's afternoon now, almost time to pick up Jack and I'm tired.

I keep moving, stay busy because why?  I'm the same at work, just keep going, don't sit down.  Is it a Protestant thing?  A Calvinist thing?  That I'm only worthy if I work and produce something?  Did I miss out on Catholic and Jewish guilt, only to be sadled with a Protestant work ethic?

I've never really thought about it before.  Is it a Protestant work ethic or is it ADHD?  All I know is that I have a hard time sitting still and because I'm a judgy type of person, I think less of people who are able to relax and sit and enjoy life.  Sigh.  

It never ends, does it?  This looking in the mirror at oneself.  Oh, and I judge myself for being judgy too.  

People (I mean myself) are weird.  I'm weird.  Probably not any weirder than anyone else, but still weird.  

There's nothing wrong with me, other than I seem to have lost my get up and go.  Nothing interests me right now and I'm even having a hard time reading blogs or leaving comments.  

My sister in law is visiting right now and I took Jack over to visit her at my niece's place.  My niece doesn't have children, she has cats, hence the fish head shaped cat bed.

The trees continue on their yearly ritual of changing colours.  I walk the dogs.  I worked last Friday and we had a gentleman with a severe allergic reaction.  A code was called but no compressions were needed.  Sadly it will be this gentleman's last CT scan because it showed the tumour had collapsed the right upper lobe of his lung and was pressing on his SVC.  The doc talked to him and the patient now was days to weeks, and not months.  So my heart broke at little.  And then I had a thirty-nine year old man with metastatic rectal cancer; I don't realize how hard my job was, until I go back there.  The grief is overwhelming sometimes.

I went to see "Come From Away" with three friends on Saturday night.  I can't say enough good things about it.  It made me laugh and it made me cry.  My ex-husband was flying on 9/11 and I remember the terror I felt, the terror so many felt, that day.  We didn't know what was happening, or what else would happen.  The musical was about the planes that were forced to land in Gander, Newfoundland on 9/11 because American airspace was closed.  It was the stories of the people on the planes and the stories of the people in Gander who took strangers into their homes.  Turns out my sister in law, my niece and her boyfriend were sitting not far from us, but none of us knew that.

The hurricane and the aftermath have gotten to me as well.  It's not bad enough that people have died, or lost everything, or been cut off from the rest of the world, trump has to make it even worse by spewing lies.  He is an evil, vile man.  I'm tired of his shit, beyond tired. 

The leaves are falling and the days are much shorter.  It's dark now when I go to bed.  As I write this the dogs are behind me, wrestling.

Yesterday while I was walking Charlie and we were almost home, there was a woman with her bernedoodle pup, almost the same size as Charlie, off leash in the field behind us.  The soccer fields behind us are not off leash and there are signs up everywhere that say that.  Apparently that didn't apply to this woman and her pup though.  

We had to pass by the woman, so I shortened up Charlie's leash and then the pup started running towards us.  So I shortened the leash some more but then the pup was upon us.  Charlie snarled and pinned the pup to the ground (protecting me?).  The poor pup made awful noises but was not hurt, and ran off to it's owner.  

I asked the woman if her dog was okay and she glared at me.  I told her that maybe her dog should be on a leash and she responded with, maybe your dog should learn some manners.  I pointed out to her Charlie was on a leash because of his manners.

The strange thing was that I didn't get upset and my heart didn't pound.  I just stood my ground, which felt good.  I did feel bad for the pup but it wasn't hurt, it just wanted to play but Charlie didn't know that. The pup did learn that it shouldn't run at strange dogs. It was the owner's fault but she tried to blame me and I didn't take the blame.  Must have been a frustrating experience for her.

Last night I finished reading "The Life Impossible" by Matt Haig.  I loved it.  It made me smile, made me cry and made me want to travel to Ibiza.  Matt Haig struggles with depression and anxiety, in fact the first book of his that I read was "Reasons To Stay Alive".  The basic message of "The Life Impossible" is that we are all connected, not just to each other, but to everything on this planet, including the planet itself.  

Sadly, I just lost thirty minutes of my life looking at funny memes about dogs and I have nothing to show for it:)

So here's Heidi who knows she's a good girl.

And here's Charlie after a run in the paddock.

 A rare photo of Miss Katie smiling.  It's not that she doesn't smile, it's that she has a very expressive face, that changes from second to second, and she hates looking at a camera.  Yesterday morning we were at the dog park and she loved it.

I kept Jack home this morning from daycare because his aunt and mom were picking him up at noon to spend some time with him.  He watched some TV and then mooched around the house.  He organized the Lego in his room and cleaned the toilet for me.  Then he coloured a couple of pictures.  We had to make a run to Wal-mart to pick up a couple of things and he wanted to go for a bike ride when we got home, so we did.

How To Ride A Bike With A Five Year Old

Get the bikes out of the garage and close the garage door.

Start to ride down the street until child says to stop, I need my socks

Return to house, open garage and wait while child gets socks on.

Close garage door and set off down the road.

Stop at the end of the road, get off bike and wait while child catches up.

Wait while child starts riding again.

Let child decide direction of bide ride.

Get off bike to cross road.

Get back on bike to ride.

Wait while child gets back on his bike.

Start to ride, approximately ten seconds, and then stop when child says, Nana stop.

Wait for child to start riding again.

Start riding again, approximately ten seconds, tell child to stay on the ride side of the path.

Tell child again to stay on the right side of the path.

Tell child that if he doesn't stay on the right side of the path, we'll go home.

Thank the older gentleman with the cane for moving off the path while we rode by, although Nana believes it was self preservation and not consideration which caused the man to move out of the way.

Wait while child decides when we can go again.

Start to ride, approximately four seconds, until child says, Stop Nana.

Nana tries to remain calm with limited success.

This continues on until we get to the park that the child wanted to visit.

While at the park, child covers himself with sand and Nana knocks into something, making her glasses crooked.

On the way home, child no longer wants to ride, lets push our bikes home.

That lasts for approximately three seconds, then child tells Nana to stop again, and then continue riding.

Child stops and gets off bike, complaining his legs are sore, he doesn't feel good, and he might have diarrhea.

Child then touches dried dog shit on bicycle tire (which he drove into last time we went to this park).

Child starts sniffing his fingers and crying because his fingers smell like poop.

Child is told to stop sniffing his fingers.

Start to ride again, child wants to be in front now. 

Wait for child to go ahead.

Child wants to know why I'm not riding and Nana explains because, he's in the way.

Child then decides he wants to ride behind me and tries to ram Nana with his bike.

Nana rides faster and child becomes upset because Nana is going to fast.

Instruct child to stop trying to ram Nana's bike.

Instruct child, again, to stay on right side of the path.

Child wants to know why.

Explain to child because that's the rule.

Start to ride for approximately twenty seconds (longest time of cycling) when child again says, Stop Nana.

Nana bites her tongue while she stops again, for the one hundreth time, and attempts to remain calm.

Start to ride again, only to be stopped again, walk bikes again, and then get back on bikes to ride for approximately ten seconds before stopping again.

Finally, home is within sight. 

Child stops and demands Nana stop as well.

Nana does not look back to child, afraid of what her face will look like.

Child starts to ride again and then falls off sidewalk.

Nana continues to ride for five more seconds and makes it home.

Child's auntie and mother are waiting in car for him.

Child starts to leave until Nana reminds him of dogshit on fingers.

Child runs into the house to wash hands.

Child leaves with auntie and mother for a visit.

Nana goes into house and calms her shattered nerves:)

It's my birthday today.  The photo was taken of my first birthday in Canada; that dress was my favorite dress, and it had pockets.  I'm getting a massage today and walking the dogs.  Tonight the guys are talking me out for supper.  A good day.

Rebecca Cheptegei died today.  She was a marathon runner who recently competed in the Paris Olympics.  She was a 33 year old mother of two daughters, aged 12 and 13.  Two days ago, her ex-partner doused her with gasoline and set her on fire, over a dispute about land.  Two days ago, a man thought it was okay to set his ex-partner on fire, because he was angry, because he didn't get what he wanted.  This man and his culture and the world told him that it's okay to kill a woman.  

Every day, 133 women are killed in the world by their intimate partners or family members.  Every day women are beaten, mutilated and killed.  Every day women are targeted because of their gender.

When I was in grade four, our teacher was beaten to death by her husband.  Shortly after I graduated from high school, one of our classmates was beaten to death by her boyfriend.  When I worked at the RAH, one of the nurses there was killed by her husband.  When I lived in the West End of Edmonton, a young nurse was killed by her ex-boyfriend, after her late shift.  He waited for her to get off work, killed her and then set her car on fire.  And that's just me and some of the women I've known.  

I've been both physically and sexually assaulted by the men in my life and most women you talk to have a story to tell of things that have happened to them.

And my question is, what did we do to piss men off?  Why are men so afraid of women?  This is not a new phenomenom, men having been killing women for thousands of years and my question is why?

So I did very little research and found this article,"The weaker sex? Science that shows women are stronger than men.".  Granted this is confirmation bias but it is also my lived experience.  And is this why men are afraid of women?  Because they know, deep down, that they need us more than we need them?  Do they resent this dependence?  

I don't have answers and I apologize to the men who are not monsters, who read this post, but I am so sad and angry today, to hear that another woman, a woman who was succeeding and doing well, a woman who was showing other women how to succeed, was murdered by her ex-partner.  

It was our anniversary yesterday.  It's a good thing this photo pops up on facebook, otherwise both of us would forget.  We got married up at Jasper, eight years ago.

When Jack started school last week, I realized it will be another thirteen years that I will be tied to a school calendar.  I don't mind, much, maybe a little.  I had wanted to travel a little when I retired, so I guess we'll just pull Jack out of school once in awhile and take him with us.  I would still like to visit Italy.

This photo was taken behind our house.  There are actually houses all around the pond, and a new school being built, but it's still a lovely little pond.  As you can see, there are also a lot of cattails.  Everyday when I go for my walk with the dogs, I watch the progression of the cattails, and they're nearing the end of their season.  This morning I read an article on how to harvest and dry the leaves, in preparation for weaving.  I thought about just watching videos on how to weave a basket, but I decided I would like to get out and meet other people, so I signed up for a course on basket weaving in a couple of weeks.  I'm kind of excited.

Yesterday an old friend drove out to the Park so we could have lunch together.  She kept trying to convince me to move back to the West End of Edmonton but that's not going to happen.  It's only a half hour drive to her place, not so far really.  We had a lovely visit.  We've been friends for thirty-two years.  She has multiple myeloma but she's doing well and enjoying life.  She wanted me to join her card group but that's not going to happen either.  Her friends are rich women, not my type.

I had bad vertigo last week that left me very grumpy, nauseous, and very tired, shockingly tired.  It's finally gone now but I couldn't believe how drained it left me.  I have BPPV which is not a terrible thing but it is unpleasant.  I've had it since I was eighteen, and it comes and goes.  I am very thankful the vertigo is now gone.

I'm off to make some supper, so I don't have to cook later, and then walk the dogs.  It's cold and windy this morning, so I'm waiting a bit to walk the dogs.  It's dark now when we get up, sigh.  Winter is coming.