Archives

Life: a risky business

PHOTO BY CHANDRA

Have you ever thought about how risky life is and what a miracle it is so many of us manage to make it into adulthood? I’m not paranoid, but dangers do lurk at every turn.

I’M NOT PARANOID


What with nature’s furies — hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, fires, floods, lightening and storms; the billions of microscopic bacilli and viruses around, on and in us; man made hazards like guns, explosives and weapons of war, it’s amazing I’m still here!


I can’t help but think of accidents with cars, trains and planes. I step onto my balcony and imagine it falling down to the cement patio three floors down — with me on it. gosh! Well, it could happen.


Normal people just live their lives, but I think of these things. Your chances of dying in an earthquake are one in 11 million. Not much. But what’s if I’m the designated driver?

EVIL PEOPLE?


They say one in 20 million die after being bitten by a dog. I constantly meet dogs on my daily walks. Does a snarl mean I should say goodbye right now? Then there are also evil people who may attack me even if a dog doesn’t. Oh, my….

WHY DO NEIGHBOURS TAKE THE STAIRS?


Apparently the risk of being injured in an elevator is one in six million. My building has one. I use it every day. Some neighbours always take the stairs. Do they know something I don’t? And, why aren’t they telling me?

A CELESTIAL BODY??


I’m not a scared person, but what I’m really terrified of is being hit directly by a celestial body. I have a one in a 150 trillion chance of this happening, but what’s if I’m the person standing right where the darn thing comes down if it does, when it does? Yikes!


There are a lot of other reasons why life is a risky business, but I won’t go there. You’d have to be a little nutty to worry about everything.

Kamikaze gnats up my nose…

I wasn’t included
I’m a kindly sort.

There was a top-secret executive meeting at my place and I wasn’t invited. The decision was made to select methods with which to best plague the lady of the house — me. If I’d known about this sadistic plot, I would have/could have purchased whatever deadly weaponry it would have taken to eliminate the deadly enemy right off. (Let it be known, these do exist.) But, I had no idea what was in the air and — I’m a kindly sort.


Naively, I thought I could just live with these bothersome intruders until my balcony was replaced and then move them outdoors where they belong. But they would not have it. They obviously like it here.


If you read my posts, you know I’ve been invaded by an army of gnats. They’ve emerged from the soil in the plants I moved into my dining area while the balcony is being replaced. (I had no idea it would take this long.)

I told you I have an army of gnats.
Angry gnat


Divisions of dive-bomber gnats are now attacking me. Their spies slyly wait until I’m relaxed in front of my computer or TV, and like kamikaze pilots, faster than you can say ‘gnats’, fly up into my nose. In formation, they dive and then fly up — my right nostril. Never the left nostril. Honest! Only the right. And they do this often. Weird, no?

Kamikaze dive-bomber gnat
Another knat


Why this preference? Darned if I know? Do you?


Well, I’m gonna fight back. Next time I’m out, I’m going to the hardware store and get some of that there yellow sticky paper the gnats apparently love and see if I can catch some of their top pilots when they dive-bomb onto what they (may?) think is a landing strip. Then we’ll see WHO means business around here.

And, if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna get my infamous Famiglia after them. Deze guys is real scary.

My infamous Famiglia. Dese guys is real scary…

My poor confused little lilac tree…

In the middle of this pandemic, our Strata decided to give our old building a face-lift. Our windows, glass doors, and balconies are included in the process. My cherished miniature lilac tree lives on the balcony. So do various other plants. They all had to be removed.


Some owners got their stuff down to the yard below, but I can’t do that on my own and how much can you ask others to do? (I’m on the 3rd floor.) I decided to ask dear Andrew to bring them all into my dining area instead. Maybe it was a mistake. This isn’t the first mistake I’ve made in my life.


My plants have mostly died. That’s okay. I can start over, except for my beloved lilac tree. I love lilacs. And Susan bought it for me just because I love them. Since it IS small, I can easily bury my face into the lovely blossoms. Inside, the tree began to look dead. Susan and I both began mourning. Still, I kept watering the poor thing — just in case.

My lovely miniature lilac tree, a gift from daughter Susan


This week, whaddaya know! It started sprouting leaves. Leaves? Now? It’s December. The beginning of winter. My little lilac tree is obviously confused. Living in my warm apartment, it thinks it’s spring!! Let’s face it, this is no time for a self-respecting lilac tree to start sprouting greenery. What to do??

Lilac tree and Jerry, the Inukshuk Susan made for me

I’ve started talking to the lilac tree as you would to a wayward child. ‘You can’t be doing that now, you silly thing. What will the neighbours say? They’ll accuse me of being a bad mother.’


Gosh, let’s face it, they’ll KNOW how crazy I am when they hear me talking to my confused miniature tree. Okay, okay. I know that you, dear reader, already know how nutty I am. No need to rub it in…

A COVID:19 Romance…

wqlkerCOVID:19 or no, If I don’t continue my dally walks these old bones of mine may not want to go anywhere, so I’m walking each day — totally on my own. Those who care about me kept reminding me how old I am and that I must take extra care out there, so I do.

I avoid the major street where I usually walk. The shops, cafes, and markets are all located there and I think it wise to avoid people so I use only the side streets, where there are just apartment buildings and houses. There are very few cars on the streets right now and many less people.

On one of these very first walks, I saw a man sitting outyoungr&J in the sun on a second floor balcony. He waved down to me and said hello. I asked if he was staying in like me. He was. We ended up chatting, he sitting on his balcony above and me sitting on my walker below on the sidewalk.

REDsIf things had been reversed, I would say it was like the tragic story of Romeo and Juliet. And if I told you we made each other laugh, became fast friends, exchanged phone numbers and now talk endlessly so that’s why my phone is usually busy, and have decided we really like each other, have much in common and shall spend oodles of time with each other after this is over, it would be a lovely end to the story. Right? Unfortunately, it would also be a big fat lie. That’s not how it ended.

QuoteR&J

Since then, although I’ve walked on the same street and passed under ‘Romeo’s’ balcony many times, I’ve not seen him again. Is he chatting with someone new? Is that the real end of this love story?

funny-elderly-husband-wife-celebrating-wedding-anniversary-old-senior-couple-listening-to-music-vector-cartoon-174728339True, we really did have an enjoyable chat, that part is actually true. However without breakfasts every day at my favorite cafe, many lunches with friends, exercise classes to take, visits to the library, and everything else I do in my ordinary life, things are more leisurely right now and I don’t get out at the same time each day. Perhaps the lack of a new COVID:19 romance in my life is my own fault. Poor ‘Romeo’ just doesn’t know when  I’ll show up. This is, indeed, a tragedy!

Oh, well…..

Good morning world…

Muriel2017

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

Burrard Bridge 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.

 

 

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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

 

 

jumpss

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.

ladydances

Good Morning World!

 

 

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

 

 

 

Vansunrise

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