A New day

This morning brings another day of travel, this time back to our home to collect things needed for a longer stay in Kamloops.

The sun is shining, albeit from behind a veil of smoke. Fires burning elsewhere have left their mark on these skies, providing a grey cast to the air and a red filter for the sun.
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The travel will take the better part of 7 hours and on Sunday I will do it again, retracing my path to return here with a carload of belongings.

I’m not sure how long my stay here in Kamloops will be, could be 6 months or more. The verdict is also still out on my feelings toward it. Only time will answer both.

And We’re Off

And, here we go again, again an endless series of mundane thoughts and senseless drivel. It ain’t so bad though, it’s my thoughts and my drivel. You have the choice to take it or leave it.

Of course I’d always prefer you take it, that’s the point isn’t it?

Life has been, well, shall we say continuous. That too is a good thing. I’ve been in and out of town and actually accomplishing things on the home front. My new meds Citalopram seem to have taken hold and turned my ambition level around. That in itself is a good thing, a really good thing if it holds.

We just got back from visiting our daughter who just gave birth to a baby girl, Ivy, only 2 weeks ago tomorrow. I spent the week prior and the week after the birth at their place helping wherever possible. My wife, much to her dismay, had to come home to work. Sucks to be her. I do feel for her though, that was me prior to retirement.

She is cute too, Ivy I mean. Of course my wife also cute, that goes without saying. We miss her already and have only been away a day. I have pictures to remind me though, lots of pictures. And photos of Madden too. He’s also in my thoughts. I love them all, what can I say. I’m a sucker for grandkids.

Here we go again

I think “Here We Go Again” is a title of an old song, can’t be sure though and it really doesn’t matter. In this sense it only means here I go, putting up another very late post.

I see it’s not been since January of this year that I visited here to write. I’m surprised! My my, where does the time go?

I’ve been active and there are many things that have happened around me. Perhaps no more than to the average bear but they were, of course, significant to me. Mostly it’s just life stuff.

One thing of note was that since my last post I’ve gone back on the ‘juice’. Now before you get all confused or concerned you must realize the ‘juice’ in this context is an anti-depression medication, in this case Citalopram. Last year I was on Mirtazapine but in my wisdom I chose to get off the meds and see how things turned out. Not too well evidently.

After stopping the Mirts I did not become suicidal or anything close to that self destructive, it was more a case of low moods and and a frequent sadness I couldn’t seem to avoid. In fact, as I told my doctor, I would often get very teary and emotional during commercials on tv. I short I was very often low. This didn’t happen immediately but became more pronounced over time. In a nutshell I was not better, more help was needed, but I persevered.

In January we went to Okotoks to our niece’s. That’s where we had gone to visit during our annual get-away and where I last posted  Typically we go somewhere away from our city to just be away, to regroup and recharge. January is the month our son died so since then, Jan. of 2000, we either take a week in our time-share or perhaps we go to visit kin. In this case the kin won. It was a nice visit, a good escape. I had no overt depression or anxiety but my sadness lingered.

During that same month my Mother moved out of our basement suite where she had lived for a 7 or so years. She and my step-Father had moved in when they found the challenges of living alone, away from town, a challenge. My step-Father Larry unfortunately passed away a few years ago just after his 80th birthday but my Mom stayed with us. Now, through a series of outside circumstance, she felt moving to Langley was the best choice for her and her siblings so she took on the challenge of moving and went to the big city. I supported her move and still do. It is her call and I think I can appreciate her reasons.

Since her move we have spent time refurbishing the suite in hopes of attracting another good tenant. I won’t belabour the point but all went quite well and in the end we gained my (ex) brother-in-law Jake as a new ‘person under the stairs’. I could likely write volumes about the dynamics of him and his wife (and her family) but I won’t. I would like cause you some disbelief and wonderment about how these kinds of relationships could even take place. Maybe not though, I guess they are on reality tv all the time.

But I digress. After our foray away and my Mom’s move I just reached the point where I knew a change was needed. Don’t misunderstand, my situation was neither caused nor exacerbated by either our trip, the timing, nor my Mom’s leaving. They were only pointers in time, the inevitable return to medication was evident by that point.

After our return home a visit to my doctor supported my diagnosis, he determined I was depressed and had a higher degree of anxiety than ‘normal’. A regime of anti-depressants were again prescribed. In consult with the doctor we decided to try the Citalopram as I felt the Mirtazapine did not hold up it’s end of the bargain and let me down after some time. This became more evident as I re-read my paper journal and saw a decline in my moods over time. Another reason I had chosen to stop the Mirts. The Citalopram would also apparently help with any anxiety.

At any rate here we are. After being on the Cital since Jan. 28th I feel better once again. Not so much something you may be able to see but more an even-ess and stability of mood. I have more motivation and am getting some things done. I do hope it continues. My sleep has improved and although I dream crazy dreams now it is more restful. A drawback to the Citalopram is a tiredness during mid morning but I may change when I take my dose to dinnertime and the drowsiness may abate.

So in that sense I hope the tagline “Here we go again” is a positive one and I don’t find myself regressing over time. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Testosterone, Breakfast of Champions

You could feel it as you entered the building. You could smell it, it permeated the air and imbued the arena with it’s power. The ‘it’ in question was testosterone, and lots of it. I was at the ice rink with my brother-in-law to watch my niece play hockey, and operate the clock for the score and penalties.

Now it could have been just sweat I smelled, but the feeling I encountered was more than just from the aroma, it was oozing from all those men, women and children milling about in the lobby and public areas of the Community Complex. You could see it in the body language of those congregating and moving about, and hear it in the snippets of conversation I could overhear. It was, in a word, ubiquitous (I love that word).

I would expect to see it in many athletic and macho men, and some not so athletic nor macho, but I was also surprised to observe similar characteristics from some of the women and children. The aura and feeling of warrior was everywhere. Frankly it concerned me, maybe scared me.

Now I’m not against hockey or any sport in general, but I’m not particularly supportive of some of the characteristics of that particular sport. The fighting and hard hitting, the aggression and macho bullshit I could personally do without but if that’s what floats your boat then go for it. What I don’t really get is the carryover aggression that seems to continue after the games. Even some of the women and kids did not appear to be immune to this drug. Their strutting and posturing was obvious to me as well.

To me, in a nutshell, this is scary. To see this cloak of power exhibited in this way, then (hopefully) dispensed with once they left for home made a statement to me. It told me we are not far from our caveman roots. It told me that all of us are capable of being somewhat duplicitous. We can change our spots at will, put on a front for each occasion, act whatever part was required. The part that concerns me the most is that the ‘real’ us is one that carries this testosterone openly and it’s control is always just below the surface, ready to erupt.

I hope I’m wrong, I doubt I am. Testosterone, the breakfast of champions.

Build It, They will Come

I can’t explain it, and maybe it’s foolhardy to try. Can it be so simple as to ‘Build it and they will come’?

The quote is a derivation of the famous quote from the movie “Field of Dreams” and in the show the “it” they are referring to is a baseball field. Kevin Costner, as the central character, builds a baseball diamond in the middle of a corn field, in order that dead baseball heroes come back from the hereafter to play.

Field of my dreams

Field of my dreams

The quote used here, in this context, doesn’t relate to any out of world sport. What I’m thinking of here is this blog, these posts. The same posts and blog that often surprise me with readership, and followers. Now not to look a gift horse in the mouth as it were, but I wonder ‘why’?

Call me a cynic but I’m surprised if it’s my exhilarating wordsmithing, or the subject matter. I would like to think (optimistically) that it’s my writing, my style or patter. The whole exercise just makes me go ‘hmmm’ that’s all.

Again being the cynic, the perpetual doubter, I’m drawn to the theory that a number of these followers have a somewhat ulterior motive, perhaps that of drawing attention to their own posts. This technique is oft touted as one to be used to garner more traffic. You know, I will ‘like’ your posts if you ‘like’ mine. Sort of a digital ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’.

And this may often work, just not generally for me. Not at this time anyway. I’m quite sure there are tons of great, even superb, posts out there, many written by my followers, but it’s unlikely I’ll see them as I’m so wrapped up in my own sh** that I have no time nor little energy to read them. Just look at my posting frequency. That’s likely my loss.

So I’ll continue to build my field and if the readers come out of the corn to read and follow then I count my lucky stars. If I build it, will they will come?

Grand Central Station

It’s like Central Station here. I came for a coffee and some quiet but so far only the java has been found.

My car is in for repair, or rather my wife’s car, and to kill some time I walked to our local plaza to spend the hour or so the repair should take. I had a couple errands to run as well but my goal was to find a subdued atmosphere to sit and ponder life, and my role in it. I chose here, a coffee shop called ‘Common Grounds’.

I certainly don’t begrudge them the business, it’s good for them, and us in the long run. It’s just a bit too active for my taste (today). It makes my pondering, and writing, and more pondering a bit more challenging.

Oh well I got this far, Grand Central Station or not.

No News is Good News?

While it has been a while (again) since I’ve posted it seems like little has changed. My blogging life has waned a touch but my online life has not.

There is still a web presence to maintain on a couple sites and since my last post here I’ve acquired the duties of webmaster for a local photo club. This is something new for me but fits somewhat with other ‘net stuff. It does take my attention away from the blogs however. Add to this scanning photos and transcribing printed works to post on my personal site and my hours fill.

I have been writing though, a bit, and just took a one day writing course at the local college. It wasn’t quite what I expected but it’s a start eh? The point is to write, regardless, or so I believe. Just like Julia Cameron said in “The Right to Write”, you need to write every day. I fall down there unfortunately.

I am feeling a bit better lately and am not taking anything but vitamins, and booze of course. I jest about that, the booze, and maybe shouldn’t but it is just that, and it is also something I watch. I’m fully aware of the effect addictions can have on lives.

I do some exercise and am walking most days too, today as an example. My distance today will be over 3k but some days I’ll do closer to 7k. I stopped part way to pen this. I’ll enjoy a nice cup of ‘joe’, blog a bit, and move on.

My next stop will be the computer store. I seem to have developed some computer issues that are impacting my productivity in so many ways. It’s amazing how tied to that damn thing I am, hell any technology. Something to ponder.

Wow! MIA again

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder but I’m pretty sure that only applies to a few situations. Perhaps that only pertains to loving relationships, not errant bloggers. Lately I feel like one of those bloggers. I’m MIA, “missing in action”.

Certainly it does not apply to those who profess to love the art of expression though blogging, and yet in their absence from the ‘net show a position which could be construed as indifferent at best. I hope that’s not me.

What can I say that I haven’t said before, life gets in the way. Didn’t a wise man once say that?

Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
John Lennon

Enough of that, it’s been said here too much before.

I’ve been a nomad of late, travelling here and there, mostly back and forth to Kelowna where my daughter and family live/work. Let’s face it, that’s where my grandson Madden is too.

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At any rate I’m frequently mobile, not lots of time at home. And when my needs for grandson attention call you can bet I’ll respond.

He’s a big one for electronics as you can see from the photo above. I think that’s a genetic thing as both his mother and father, and me of course, are addicted to e-devices of one sort or another. Not something to be proud of necessarily, just an observation. I for one can’t seem to shake ‘the beast’. They are addictive, so even if I’m not around, if I’m MIA, I can still likely be found on my device

Children in Church

Dwayne:

Love it!

Originally posted on Morning Story and Dilbert:

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
October 8, 2001

A little boy was in a relative’s wedding.
As he was coming down the aisle, he would take two steps,
stop, and turn to the crowd.  While facing the crowd, he would put his hands up like claws and roar.
So it went, step, step, ROAR, step, step, ROAR, all the way down the aisle.
As you can imagine, the crowd was near tears from laughing so hard
by the time he reached the pulpit.

When asked what he was doing, the child sniffed and said,
“I was being the Ring Bear.”

One Sunday in a Midwest City ,
a young child was “acting up” during the morning worship hour.
The parents did their best to maintain some sense of order in the pew
but were losing the battle.
Finally, the father picked the little fellow up
and walked sternly up the aisle on his way…

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