PONDERING A LIFE

 POST # 483

Vincent's rock courtesy of my sisters**

The year was probably 1971, but I could be off by a little bit.  In any event, it was a very long time ago. 

I was at dinner with a friend from my elementary school.  We hadn't seen each other for a quite a few years, and so the conversation ranged far and wide.  At some point we got to talking about our respective families. Both families have five children, and interestingly enough, there are four girls and one boy in each.  In addition to that, the order of boy/girl was exactly the same, with the four girls arriving on the earthly scene prior to the single boy.

The conversation proceeded somewhere along these lines:

Me: "Well, there was actually another boy born before the rest of us, but he was stillborn."

Her: "Lucky you.  If your brother would have survived, you probably would never have been born."

Me:  "Why on earth would you think that?"

Her: "Your mom and dad would already have their boy, so there would be no urgency to have another one, and the family name could continue on to the next generation."

Me: "Oh I really don't think that that is the case, it's just the way things happened."

We chose to disagree on this topic, and soon the conversation had shifted to other things, as there were plenty of stories to tell in the short period of time that we had together.

In spite of the fact that I rejected her take on the family arrangement, after we parted ways, I couldn't help but ponder what she had said to me.  The more that I thought about it, the more I started to come around to her point of view.  One of the main reasons for shifting my position was recalling the numerous times over the years that my dad would tell me that it was my responsibility to carry on the family name*.  I heard that on many occasions, and never gave it much thought at the time.  But now, the idea that mom and dad kept having one more baby in the hopes that they would finally get another boy started to make sense in light of what my friend had mentioned.  

We'll never know.  For whatever reason, I never brought the subject up with either of my parents while they were still alive, so the mystery will remain.  So of all the things to talk about, why would I talk about  something that happened about fifty years ago when I was still a teenager?

The answer to that question is in the photo at the top of the post.  You see, at my current house sit, I am for the moment, pet-less, so I have plenty of time to go for walks each day.  Yesterday was a brilliantly sunny day here, and seeing as sunny days have been few and far between lately, I wanted to make sure to get out and enjoy soaking up some vitamin D, and get some exercise as well.

Not far from this place is the appropriately named, Mountain View Cemetery, the one and only cemetery in the entire city of Vancouver.  It was opened in 1886.  It certainly lives up to its name.

There is a small section of the cemetery that contains the remains of many children that were either stillborn, or lived very short lives.  I had been here once before, so I knew where to go.  After a bit of skulking around, I located the rock that has Vincent's name on it.  I spent a few moments, pondering a life that, had he survived, I probably wouldn't be sitting here typing these words.  

Mission complete, I began my return journey home.  I find that walking around a cemetery can be a very enjoyable way to spend some time.  If for no other reason, it makes me appreciate which side of the air/ground barrier I am still on.  It won't always be this way, so I had best make the most of whatever time I have on this side of the barrier.

Next week, for the final blog of the year, I'll be able to introduce "Archie" who is the resident furball.  He's not here at the moment,  but I will be picking him up from the vet later this week.  It will be good to have him around the house for the remainder of my time at this location.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

*So much for carrying on the family name.  I ended up being the only one who chose not to have children.  

**My sister Gerry sent along this link and it's worth a listen.

https://elac.ca/projects/mountain-view-cemetery-infant-graves-area/

  

THE MAGIC WALL

 POST # 482

For the second time in less than a week, I encountered what I would like to call a magic wall.  This magic wall can be found on any BC ferry.  Yesterday, on my return journey to the mainland, I boarded the ferry in Nanaimo, en route to West Vancouver.  I had just completed a very short sit with two of my four legged furry friends, Eunice and Apollo.

I think that they both look a little sad knowing that I will be leaving soon, but perhaps I'll be back again sometime in the future.  Or maybe they look this way because I haven't fed them their breakfast yet.

OK, now back to the magic wall onboard the ferry.  A picture is worth a thousand words, so they say, so here is what the magic wall looks like.

Now, what is so magical about this ordinary looking wall?  Let me show you.

On this side of the magic wall, the air is fresh and clean, and the people above can go about their normal business of eating and drinking, and socialising with one another.  But beware, on the other side of the magic wall as seen below, no telling what might be floating around in the air. Everyone on that side must be sure to wear a mask.

It's truly amazing to me that whatever is floating around in the air is powerless to cross over this magic wall.  I was content to spend the entire crossing on the unmasked side of the magic wall, and during that time I enjoyed a conversation with a fellow traveller.  That was pleasant, and very rare these days, as most of us have our heads in front of some kind of electronic device much of the time. Having had the opportunity to engage with a fellow human being, took me back to the days when on a long haul flight, you got to know the person sitting next to you.  Those days are long gone.

As we pulled in to Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal, I finally had to leave the safety of the magic wall, and like all of my fellow passengers, I was forced to put a mask over my face in order to depart and leave the ferry terminal.  Even in the brisk fresh air of a December morning, the mask had to be in place until I was completely away from the terminal.

If you've read this far, you'll probably have worked out that I am not a very big fan of the masked world that we currently live in.  Perhaps if they were effective at doing whatever it is that they are suppose to be doing, I may be more accepting of them.  Here is a link from an expert who gives his view on the efficacy of masks. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u23TloydoM

 They appear to me to be more about social control than anything else.

Still, this is the world that we all live in at the moment, and I suppose I could spend the entire remainder of my life complaining about one thing or another, but then all I have to do is think about what my friend Guy pointed out to me years ago, and it puts all of this in perspective.  And what was that, you say?  He pointed out the obvious.  That being, that there was never any guarantee at all that I would have ever been born.  That goes the same for every human on the planet.  It seems rather obvious, but until he pointed it out to me, I never gave it a thought.  The advantage to now knowing that fact, is that it allows me to "roll with the punches" as it were.  Good or bad, at least I get to be here, and take it all in.  For that, I am grateful beyond words.

So whether it's magic walls, or masks,  I'll continue to live each day as it presents itself, and try to get the most out of each and every one of them.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

OUR PRISON-LIKE WORLD

 POST # 481

~

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back.” ― Carl Sagan

In spite of the bars on the window, I am not currently in prison, although I would have to say that as time continues to pass, the world appears to become more prison-like, at least from my point of view.

And speaking of prisons, I recently received an email from my sister Rosie, letting me know that my niece Kathryn, currently a resident of Melbourne, Australia, a place I called home for ten years, is planning to leave the country and return to Canada.  She has already changed her flight to an earlier date than first planned,  in the hope that she will be allowed to leave the country and/or not get stranded in Singapore on her journey back here.

I responded to Rosie's email by commenting on the fact that Australia, and Melbourne in particular has become an open air prison these past couple of years.  We choose to differ in opinion on why that may be the case.  Let's just say that after reading her response, it's pretty clear to me that we are certainly not in agreement.

As each day passes, more and more information is coming out that strongly suggests that all of the measures that have been put in place in one country after the next, including lock downs, travel restrictions, mandatory masks and vaccines etc.  probably should have never taken place, or at the very least they should now be over and done with.  Yet, restrictions and mandates appear to be ramping up, not easing off.  If I want to continue to eat (live), I have to wear a mask at the grocery store.

As to just how we got here, well there could be plenty of reasons.  I will include a link to a recent review of Robert F. Kennedy Jr's recent book.  

https://chrismasterjohnphd.com/covid-19/2021/12/04/fauci-gates-and-the-biosecurity-state-as-told-by-rfk-jr

If one takes the time to read through that review, it may answer a few questions as to why we are where we are in late 2021.  And if you haven't been following this side of the story up to now, after reading that review, you may find yourself becoming quite angry at what we've all been subjected too over the past almost two years.  

I recently thought of a book that I read more than a decade ago.  The book was written in 1841 by Charles Mackay, and is titled, "Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds".  In some respects it seems like that is exactly what we are experiencing now.  And even if you disagree with what I've written about on today's post, I can highly recommend this book, that is, if you can find a copy.  

When I wrote my post back on  October 28th covering this topic, http://wherespaulnow.blogspot.com/2021/10/finding-common-ground.html, I thought that it would be my last time doing so.  I guess I was wrong.  My sister's email encouraged me to write this today, so thanks Rosie, for the inspiration.

Of course, it seems to be only us human animals that are mostly affected by the current state of affairs around the world, so it's nice to know that there are other creatures on the planet that are just going about their normal days, and having fun, like playing in the mud.

I came across this lovely female during my recent house sit on Vancouver Island.  She lives at an appropriately named farm.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

LOGAN #2

 POST # 480

                                                                     LOGAN

 So it's now official. I now know two Logans.  The Logan featured here has fur all over, four legs and a tail.  The other Logan, only has fur on his face, two legs and no tail.  He was one of the people that I trained to operate an Aquabus many years ago.  I'm not sure what the other Logan is up to today, but this Logan is enjoying his life here on Vancouver Island, at my latest house sit.

This is just a short one week sit, as my friends have gone away to visit people they know, and they needed someone to care for Logan.  Mind you, he's a very independent soul, so my job is easy.  I just make sure that his food dish is topped up each day, and he just does his own thing.  

With all of the rain that we've been having, it was a welcome break to have a day with sunshine recently.  I decided to take a couple of photos in order to capture this rare phenomenon.

 

And it certainly was rare.  The next day we were back into the rain, which has seemed non-stop for so very long.   I for one have seen enough of it to last me for quite a while.

At least I have a good wood stove to keep me warm and dry, so I am thankful for that.  I also have the company of Logan who was a bit shy at first, but he has now come under the spell of the cat whisperer.  That didn't take very long.

I'll only be here until next Friday, and then it will be time to head off to a new location and a new furball which I haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet.  In the meanwhile, I'll take every opportunity this week to spend time with Logan, so that if I do come back for another visit at some point in the future, he'll remember me, and we can pick up right where we left off this week.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

And a PS.  I always think of my dad today as it would have been his birthday, if he was still alive.

A HAIR RAISING WEEK

POST # 479

It was a hair raising week, and I've got the photo to prove it.  Thankfully, I didn't look like this when I stood in front of the judge this past Friday, but I'll tell that tale at the end of the post.

A sudden break in the non-stop rain earlier this week, was followed by some spectacularly windy conditions.  The last time that I can recall such a fierce wind was way back in 2006, if memory serves.  Back then, something like ten thousand trees got knocked down in Stanley Park.  That was a wild and windy night, and I spent most of it wide awake, as did all of the other liveaboards in the marina next to the park.  Surveying the carnage on my bicycle the next morning was a very memorable experience.

The wind this week wasn't as severe, but it certainly packed a punch, with gusts up to 100 kmph. It seemed like a good opportunity to head out for a walk and see what I could see.  The photo at the start of the post was taken as I walked across Granville Street bridge, on my way to the West End of Vancouver.   Being a sailor, it was sad to see this boat being smashed against the shoreline.  

Continuing on my walk,  I encountered this barge bashing up against the rocks.  The water in the foreground is actually the bike path.  I rode on this path each and every day when I lived and worked in Vancouver, and this is the first time that I have ever seen it under water.  And it's also the very first time that I have ever seen a barge washed ashore.  Both vessels are still in their respective locations, after the better part of a week.  I suspect that they'll be there for the foreseeable future.

But it wasn't just windy here in Vancouver.  The coastline got hammered on both sides of the border.  I took a couple of screen shots of this truck dangling precariously on its side on the Deception Pass bridge in Washington State.  I've crossed over this bridge on many occasions, but I'm thankful that I wasn't doing it when this truck was crossing.  I imagine that the driver didn't waste any time in exiting from his vehicle.  If the railing hadn't held, it would have been a long drop to the ocean below.

OK, so enough about the windy weather.  Let's go to court, shall we?   I was ordered to be in court as a result of me arriving at the border back in July without a negative Covid test in hand.  This first appearance was in order to establish whether or not I wanted to plead guilty, and if not, then a trial date would be set for some future date.  At least that is what I thought I was there for.  Apparently not.  I arrived ahead of schedule and I certainly wasn't alone.  Courtroom 102's name board was full of names of others who were there for the same reason that I was.  Thankfully I was able to stand in front of the judge early on.  I couldn't have tolerated being in that building any longer than I had to be.  I wore my best shorts in order to impress the judge, but I'm not sure whether or not she noticed.  A  date in December was suggested by the judge, for me to return to court to decide what I wanted to do, either plead guilty or go to trial.  I thought that was why I was there on Friday morning.  Anyhow, because I won't be in Vancouver in December, the new date set was February 15th, 2022.  At that time I get to go over this issue one more time.  In my humble opinion, this has been a gong show right from the start, and it's not over yet.   

After a very early start to my day, I arrived home to find Shadow, getting into the wine while I was away.  The poor furball.  I guess my early morning start drove him to drink.  But you can't blame him, as his name is on the bottle.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

SOME OVERDUE SHADOW TIME

 POST # 478

                                                                      YOU AGAIN?

Perhaps this shocked look on Shadow's face is because the house sitter is now back, after a two year absence.  For many years now, each November, I have had the pleasure of hanging out with Shadow for two weeks, however last year, his owners cancelled their annual vacation to Mexico.  There are no prizes for guessing why they cancelled.

I'm happy to be back, although this is probably the rainiest November that I have ever experienced.  As I type these words, the rain is pouring down, as it has been doing ever since I arrived here.  So it's possible that the look on Shadow's face has nothing at all to do with the house sitter, but has much more to do with the wet weather.

But neither Shadow or myself have much to complain about, because we have the luxury of being inside a warm apartment, unlike other poor souls who have no place to find shelter out of this cold, wet, weather. It's always wise to count one's blessings.

For instance, we have a pretty good view from our location, and not only do we have a view, but we are being viewed as well.  Check out these two characters.  Everyday they sit in this tree and keep an eye on things, including us.  Shadow "talks" to them each day.  I hold him up to the window in order to accomplish this, and it has become a part of our daily routine.  I think that the crows have come to expect us each and every day.

However, we can't spend the entire day staring out the window at these two.   Shadow likes to spend at least a portion of his busy day, stretched out on the carpet.  Legend has it that when he is fully stretched out, he measures 39 inches from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail.  He's a big furball. 

So with the continued rainy weather, and the lack of motivation to go outside, I'll just hang out here for now, and follow the instructions on the coffee cup that I use each day.  I'm ready for some overdue Shadow time.

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer

THE GOOD OLD DAYS

 POST #477

                                                           MY CURRENT VIEW

Perhaps it's just a natural part of the human condition, the idea of the good old days.  Ah, the good old days.

Like when I could visit Mary and Dora-dog.

Like when I could travel without any restrictions or mandates.

Like when I could cross a border.

Like when I didn't have to wear a mask in order to shop for food, so that I can continue to live.

Like when I had a full house sit calendar booked months in advance.

Like when ...

I could go on, but you get my drift.

This is the state of the world in late 2021. I don't like it one bit, but unfortunately this is how things are at the present time.

What to do?

Do what I try to do each and every day.  That is, live with gratitude and acceptance, which has become much more of a challenge lately.

Yes, the good old days.  

 I feel that at some point in the not too distant future, we are going to look back at what is currently happening in our world, and say to ourselves, "Yes, in late 2021, those certainly were the good old days."  

I would love to be wrong.

                                      FOR THIS HERON, IT'S JUST ANOTHER DAY  

    

 

grateful for every breath,

Paul

The Thoughtful Wanderer