It used to be that everyone my age was older than me. That is, until this accident. Now I’m really slow, or have been since the crash. Whiplash is an unforgiving thing. If I should meet the guy who drove his van into my car, I’d kick him in the ass. My back aches, and my neck is constantly stiff and sore. The good news is that my headache is finally clearing up. I go for physiotherapy twice a week. It apparently will last about 90 days before it clears up. I look forward to it.
The Guardian reports that we’re seriously boned unless we change our ways … now.
I planted native southern Alberta wildflowers near the house this spring instead of watering and expecting green grass to grow there. It’s supposed to be conducive to the lives of birds, bees, butterflies, and or course beauty.
Yes, I bought a larger van, but you have to remember that the embodied energy needed to invest into a new vehicle is quite serious – the fuel equivalent to somewhere around 130,000km of driving. I didn’t even get that far in seven years in the Kia Soul.
I plugged in my little electric foot scooter today. It costs – and I don’t care if you don’t believe me – I’ve done the research and calculations – about $1.00 of electricity to go about 1000km on this. Of course, I can’t carry lumber or a family or suitcases and cannot drive in winter. But it serves its purpose.
And of course there’s my favourite – my bicycle. But my physiotherapist is frowning on using it just yet. The bonehead to T-boned my car made sure of that.
I don’t re-post many websites – only ones I think are somehow important – but I do believe this one is pretty important for our health.
It seems, according to the article, that we’re cleaning ourselves sick. I’ve always been a proponent of a more natural existence – for our physical health, mental health, spiritual health, and any other kind of health we’re supposed to be experiencing.
I gave my 112th blood donation today.
They take half a litre every 56 days.
Someone asked me, “Is that a pump? Are they pumping it out of you?” No! It’s not a pump! It’s just a bag of blood sitting on a platform that moves back and forth every few seconds to stop the blood from coagulating, or whatever blood does when it sits still. The heart is a pump. It pumps it all around; and if you put a hole in a vein and let it out into a bag, your heart doesn’t know the difference. It just gets pumped out. No biggie.
Now here’s an idea that, upon first look, seems kooky. Vacation in prison. But, having lived in South Korea for many years, I know that work can take its toll on a person. The busy busy busy, go go go, workaholic lifestyle wears a person thin. Enter: Prison. Well, a place that apparently resembles prison.
One only has to Google “prison hotel” to get prison vacation destination ideas.
Yes, I get it. But … what about self-restraint? (Unintentional play on words.) Book a simple place somewhere, without annoying people all over the damn place, vendors hungry for money, where peace and quiet are the norm. Buy a tent, go camping. Don’t bring your Winnebago. Not even your VW Westfalia. Just you and a tent.
Not the outdoorsy type? Go stay in a small prairie town hotel. Go to Cadillac, SK. Or Fort Smith, NT. Take a simple “cruise” on BC Ferries up the Inside Passage. But I guess all of these offer distraction after distraction, noise, people all over, and / or lack of solitude.
I’m drinking Oolong tea these days. I did a search on Ask.com. According to Caffeine Informer, the average cup of Oolong has 37mg of caffeine. My Starbucks Americano (tall) has 150mg. And their Pike Place – I was surprised at this – has a whopping 235mg of caffeine! Good gawd. So this is why I’m switching to tea as my “second cup”. Eventually I plan to go without caffeine.
You probably don’t know this, but my nickname from way back is Oolong. The Wife gave that to me. Why? I still don’t know, but it’s probably because it sounds like Allan in some languages & cultures. Good enough reason to switch to tea.
Mom’s biopsy is today. I was thinking of going, but Mom says there wouldn’t really be anything to do – just go and wait for her to finish.
I’ll stay here and do some maintenance on the house instead. I am digging around the rear of the house to stop the house itself from sitting on the ground and to replace the rotten wood that had most likely been there since the house was placed here. Lots of work.
You know that movie, 50 First Dates? If not, look it up.
You’re reading this for the first time, right? Yes. Well, me too, or at least I will be. Telling friends & family this is pretty weird. Here how it works.
I take sleep meds called Sublinox. It’s an hypnotic made to help fall asleep. But it has a side effect of inhibiting memory (storage of, for example, writing in this ongoing letter blog) until sleep is underway. It takes about 15 minutes to work, and, during that time, I cannot study, talk on the phone, visit with family, nothing. I can make coffee ’cause I know that’s something I do every night. I wake up in the morning and thank the person who made the coffee for me. All I have to do is turn it on. Well, really, it was me. But I just don’t remember doing it.
So when I read this blog sometime – don’t know when – I’ll go, “Oh, somebody has broken into my server, left a blog entry in my writing style, and posted it. That was … let’s see … right about the same time I was getting ready for bed. I wonder who that was?”
I can’t do homework because I won’t retain it. I can’t have important conversations, like with classmates to get things done, for the same reason. I can’t change passwords! That would be bad. About the only thing I can do is go to bed.
So that’s what I’ll do. Good night, y’all.
Feeling a bit iffy this past week. With the cold snap, getting down to -32°C (-26°F), condensation collected on two walls in my room. With my bed pushed up against the walls and the storage area under (in) the bed full of stuff, no heat got back there, and this condensation collected, froze, collected more, and eventually grew mould on the bottom 6 inches of the walls. I was headachy and hacking away for the good part of a week. I happened to notice a little pool of water at the head of my bed. Oh crap, where’s this coming from? I pulled the bed back and found a black mouldy surprise. It’s pretty much cleaned up now, but I’m still a bit achy.
I just finished a book that was given to me by the staff at Flexibility called The Stranger In the Woods by Michael Finkel. What’s weird is that it took until the third-last chapter to draw a comparison between the character in the book, Chris, and my brother, Glenn.
They both escaped society and all its absurdities, couldn’t co-exist with people around, somehow found meaning in solitude, excluded the trappings of modern life from his own.
“He’s done some research; hypothermia, he believes, is a painless way to die. “It’s the only thing that will make me free.” (Page 182) Glenn organized his things immediately around him in such as way that showed he knew exactly what he was doing – planned completely.
“Yeah, the brilliant man,” says Knight, “the brilliant man went to find contentment, and he did. The brilliant man wishes he weren’t so stupid to do illegal things to find contentment.” (Page 183) My brother grew & sold pot as part of his income. And, yes, he was brilliant, and he was trying to find contentment somehow.
I could go on, but I won’t. The book is done. Perhaps this is why Elma chose this book. Thank you, Elma. I get it.