Am I addicted too???

I’ll come clean and admit it. I think I’m addicted. I don’t watch TV; I no longer smoke; I’m much too poor a loser to gamble, and so crazy sober I don’t have to drink. But, I do have a secret and maybe getting it out in the open will be the first step towards conquering it.

I didn’t grow up with modern technology. Heck, I remember us having a telephone party line! The bookkeeping machine we used in the early 60s took up a whole wall.

In the 1960s we got a ‘bookkeeping machine’ (something like this) which took up a whole wall

I’ve looked askance at those who are addicted to their I-Phones. I especially judge young mothers on the bus who give little ones phones to keep them quite. (Those I-phones damage very young eyes — something to do with pixels.) I carry a cell-phone too, but only for emergencies and rarely use it.

Once upon a time, we just used an adding machine

 

 

The bible says: ‘Do not judge or you too will be judged.’ But now, I’m beginning to wonder. Am I also addicted???

Am I also addicted???

I’ve followed the same routine for years. When I worked as a columnist and technology allowed me to email my articles in, I learned to become an expert at creating multiple stalling tactics to avoid writing.

If you picture me approaching my computer with glee, impatient to communicate with you, that ain’t necessarily so. Yes, I like expressing my thoughts or frustrations, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get started.

First I must go through my routine

First, I must play a game of Boggle. (Its good for my aging brain.) Then, I need to have (no more than) three games of solitaire. (Same excuse.) After that I check my Blog Stats (always interesting) then I read my email, answer those which require immediate attention and leave the others for later, or maybe never. After all this, I make all the phone calls I deem necessary, followed by the phone calls which are absolutely not necessary, and then, reluctantly, will get to work.

Waddaya think?

 

When I do start, the writing is easy enough. Its just getting to it that’s so darn hard. So, waddaya think? Is my routine an addition? Am I addicted too???

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A winter wonderland….

That’s my Inukshuk pretending he’s a snowman

It’s below zero and very cold out. It snowed. Then it snowed again. And now, it’s snowing even more and the wind has decided to join the fun and play ring-a-round-the-rosy.

Huge snowflakes wiggle seductively this way and that like pole-dancers looking for a lap to land on. They rudely push each other about until they find a spot that feels good.

 

They’re careful as they create perfectly fitting marshmallow tops to cover the pots on my balcony. Maybe they’re concerned about my baby garlic plants growing under their white covers. Is that why they work so hard to knit their puffy blankets?

 

My neighbor Wayne filmed this beautiful bird, a Towhee (I’m told)

 

Jerry, my Inukshuk, who lives under my miniature tree thinks he’s back in the Arctic. He’s playing peak-a-boo with me and pretending he’s a snowman. He thinks I don’t know who he is, but I’d know him anywhere — silly guy. At least he’s wise enough to wear a warm, white cap on his head to keep his ears warm.

 

looking north from my window

The Northern mountains have been gone for days. They probably went south to visit my friend Joe in Beverly Hills, where it doesn’t snow at all. And who can blame them? They’re not used to this extra cold weather , especially without our beautiful clouds to wrap them in their arms. What the heck, why stick around?

I’m inside for the duration. Schools and universities are closed, my exercise classes are cancelled, flights aren’t going anywhere and the ferries aren’t running to the islands. Our buses are slipping and sliding on the icy streets and can’t make it up the hills, while those brave enough to drive, are often ending up in ditches. None of us are accustomed to this kind of weather and we aren’t equipped for it. People like me are wisely staying in to avoid falls.

 

After opening my balcony door for my good neighbor,

A marshmallow on Wayne’s table

Wayne, who took these photos, I can’t get the darn door to close properly. (Don’t worry, I’ll work on it.) And, didn’t Wayne do a fabulous job? He also went shopping for some of us who needed help. (I needed milk.)

I’m not bored. I’ve taken care of a lot of things which needed attention inside my apartment. It makes me feel so noble. So, in spite of everything, I look out the window and wonder at the beauty of it all.

It is, indeed, a winter wonderland….

Good morning world…

photo by Chandra

 

Mornings are dark right now, but I am looking forward with anticipation and pleasure to our wonderful skies come spring.  Vancouver has the most beautiful clouds I’ve ever seen and they fill me with joy. I face north and see the mountains from my windows and sometimes the clouds embrace the peaks as they would a lover.

 

 

Good Morning World…

Night in passing gives a military salute

And a promise of a crimson dawn

The Burrard Bridge at dawn, one of my favorite of many local bridges

Kisses my window.

 

Blossoms vie for space and light on my balcony

They push and shove like crowds of pedestrians

On a crowded boulevard.

 

 

 

My constant companion, Jerry, the anukshuk, watches over my balcony garden and the lovely miniature lilac tree daughter Susan gave me.

 

 

Yeah!

Cool air caresses my skin with a hint

Of sensual heat to come if I could only

Learn to be patient.

 

 

Fresh air and brewed coffee and car fumes

Dance together in my nostrils offering

A feast at my fingertips.

Good Morning World!

 

 

‘Good Morning World,’ I call out to nobody.

 

 

 

It isn’t a fire folks, just a beautiful dawn in my city