Truths and facts can be ugly. The news is ugly. It is wise not to watch it before bedtime but it happens. I felt overwhelmed by our post pandemic and climate changed world – Hurricane Fiona, Hurricane Ian, flooding in Pakistan. The healthcare segment finally did me in. I had to turn it off. It was too late. My body and mind have already absorbed the sounds, images and energy. They disrupted my already disruptive autumnal sleep. While I did sleep and got up my usual 3 times, I could not get back to sleep the last time. Each time I woke with the same ‘sad‘ emotion. I call it sad for lack of a better word.

So beware of how and what you take to bed with. They will come back to haunt you. I’ve been clearly aware of it now. It’s a little too late but it’s better never recognizing it. I am suffering a little from my poor sleep but I put in lots of effort and my best foot forward. My day was pretty good. I accomplished the impossible by clearing my cluttered diningroom table. When company is coming, I can move mountains. If I was more social, I would do it more often. But I am not so I should just respect the person that I am and not strive for the impossible.

Our company, a member of our community garden, was delightful. We shared a glass of chokecherry wine the guy made. I brought out my zucchini muffins. We shared much conversation and stories. She played a few tunes on my piano and inspired me to practice again. It was a delightful afternoon. Though she is 90 and had recently lost her husband, she is still interested in being part of the community garden. And we would gladly help if she needed some. After all, we are about community.


Warmer temperatures does not always guarantee well being and energy for me. After a day’s rest I wasn’t that keen to hit the ski trail again. I did anyways. It’s my exercise regime this winter. I have given up my aerobics class and swimming due to Covid. There’s no Sheba to walk any more. Now it’s 10-15 minutes of walking to and from the park and 20-30 minutes of skiing. It’s hard work moving my arms and legs as fast as I can on sticks. To motivate myself, I time each lap. Though I am no Speedy Gonzales, I am not slipping. My time gets better or stays the same. It’s usually better on the 2nd lap after I’ve warmed up. I’m also a little faster in the opposite direction when it’s a downward slope. Figures, eh? To compare, I did the first lap up slope for a time of 10:36:14 minutes. The second down slope was 9:45.38 minutes. I skipped the third lap. Tomorrow is another day.

My worse/groaner time is after I come back from skiing. I’m tired, hot and sweaty. Then there’s all those lunch dishes staring at me. I hate it when there’s pots included. Making soup is wonderfully easy with an Instant Pot. I threw everything in – the chicken broth I made yesterday, a leftover potato, some mashed potato, a couple sticks of chopped celery, part of a rutabago, and the last of the carrots from the garden. Put the lid on and press soup. Cleaning up was not so easy – all those containers that held the leftovers, the pot, bowls, plates and utensils. Then there’s the fridge. I could close my eyes but I’ve done that for a few days already. It was mostly empty, a good time to wipe off. Now all that is finally done. I’m sitting, sipping my last cup of tea for the day. It’s good to groan and sigh it out. To be repeated tomorrow.

Sometimes I feel that life is dang hard. But really, my life is a piece of cake. Feel good doctors say, Don’t watch the news at bedtime. I say the news last night -the storm in Texas, the Covid outbreak in Newfoundland, the vulnerable people during this pandemic, the crack down of protestors in Myanmar – made me feel so grateful. This morning I listened to Melissa Fung talk about the young girls that were abducted by Boko Haram in Nigeria. I have nothing to complain about, not even the bitter cold and Covid. I have food, warm shelter and safety. When I feel that life is hard, it would be good to remember last night’s news and be grateful for what I have. Even when I feel least like it, I just do it.


Gosh, I should not have talked about my sleepless nights with Sheba. It brought bad luck. Here we are again on the Midnight Express. There was something bad in the air this evening. It gave me the shivers listening to Donald Trump. Then there was the image of Harvey Winestein pushing his walker and the fires in Australia. Half a billion wild life lost! The world feels foul. No wonder Sheba and I are disturbed. We can feel it all.

We have both taken our melatonins. I hope that will rock us to sleep soon. No use in fretting. I can do something useful in the meantime. Might as well tap a few words for day 6 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Sheba has settled on her pillow. My eyelids are getting heavy. I wonder if she will let me go to bed. Oops! She’s up again. Maybe I will just pull out the comforter and bunk down here. I’ll be optimistic and say, be back in the morning.

It is Monday afternoon. My optimism last night was lost but not completely. The dog was not cooperative in allowing me to sleep. After farting around trying to be productive and not making too much noise, I got fed up with Sheba. I was tired and getting a headache. It was 2 am. I read her the riot act, turned out the light and went to bed. Much to my surprise, it worked. She hung back, then tiptoed into the bedroom and plunk herself on her bed. She was quiet the rest of the night.

I did get some shut eye, maybe 4 hours. It was not a restful sleep. It’s better than none. Nothing is perfect. True life never runs smooth. We’re still on track, clickety clack. Around and around we went. Though it is a bit blustery we made 2 rounds at the park. We’re both full of vim and vinegar. Surprising isn’t it, considering our lack of sleep and our advanced ages. Must be something in the air. I hope the fresh air and exercise will zonk us out tonight.

We I must bolster ourselves myself. I must build up my reserve so that I’m not so easily influenced by the news or whatever in in the air. It makes life ever so much harder feeling and succumbing to every little thing. Time to grow up. I think I have – a little. I’m carrying on as usual. I’m bitching a little. I’m feeling a little crabby. But I’m not crying ‘poor me’.


It’s wise men who say don’t watch the news before bedtime. All the world’s tragedies flashed before your eyes in a matter of minutes. The gas explosion in a bakery in Paris, killing 3 people, the bus crash in Ottawa, killing 3, injurying 23. The story on where our plastic waste ends up (in Malaysia) sent me into despair and depression. I felt the ridiculous efforts of our recycling. I threw in my innocent and laughable hopes and went to bed.

All this is still with me this morning. No such luck as to sleeping it off. I feel depressed, down but not out – yet. I’ve fallen off  doing Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages. I’ve come here instead. Who says you have to write it out longhand with pen and paper? Tapping on the keyboard is an effective tool for me. Adding photos and videos satisfies some of that creative need in me. Doing all that defuses some of my negative feelings.

Talking about negative emotions, are they so bad? Is it shameful to admit we get depressed, disappointed and unhappy? Must we feel elated all the time? What about when bad things happen? It’s only normal that we feel ‘bad’. There are times when anger/whatever is the only logical and healthy reaction to have. I feel so confused when people put on a polite front. I feel such a failure in their presence.

At the same time I’m so sick of  hearing about wounds and healing. Are we all walking around ripped open and bleeding? I don’t mean to be insensitive. I am was/still is in woundology (Caroline Myss’s terminology) myself. Sometimes I DO hear myself (now). It’s time to change my tune.

I’ve gone on long enough. Talked and revealed too much. Time to shut up and say good night on day 13 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m feeling challenged.



When the conversation stops, it’s difficult to get it going again. That’s what I’m experiencing – here and in other places. I’ll see if I can get it going again. This stretch of October days has been sunny and warm. My energy and spirit have benefited. I’m doing more and complaining less. Hallelujah!

Having said that, I am feeling overcast by the news. Not watching or listening doesn’t make the bad stuff go away. It’s better to be informed than hiding my head in the sand. That way, I can make better decisions. It is not easy, though, to be in the here and now – watching the migrant caravan trying to gain entry into a better life, the murder of Jamal Khashoggi, the political scene and Donald Trump in the United States. None of it is uplighting. It is what is happening.

There seems to be so many things wrong in our world. It seems so wrong that so many people are living in abject poverty while the wealthiest one perfect of the world’s population owns more than half of the world’s wealth. It seems so wrong to build a wall to keep out the poorest and most suffering from having a chance to better their lives. It seems that we live such hippocritcal lives. While the world condemns Saudi Arabia on its human rights, the U.S., Canada and the UK  still have arms deals with the country. Will they continue?

This is not the conversation I want to start but how could I not? I come from a country whose human rights record is questionable. I have my own personal memory bank of my native country’s violence. I remember the sound of a firing squad in my childhood. You cannot speak out against Chairman Mao. You cannot breathe a negative word to a wrong person. My mother had to be a witness to such an event. She kept her eyes on the ground, she said. The victim was a teacher who spoke out of turn.

My eyes tear at the memory now. Then, I was but a child with no understanding. It’s distressing that not much has  really changed. But maybe it has. With the technology and communications today, we are aware of what is happening everywhere. It is not ‘over there’ anymore. It is here, right in our livingrooms. There is nowhere to hide anymore.

Conversations are difficult to start and maintain. The flow takes practice, practice and endless cups of tea. Solutions and relationships can be the outcome in the course of sipping tea and exchange of words and ideas. It does take effort and courage or foolishness. It could be the latter for me. I cannot live in silence of non response and proper ettiquette. I often speak without wisdom.


It is getting late in the day. A storm is coming this way. “Total snowfall amounts of 10 to 15 centimetres are forecast to fall by the time snow begins to ease on Sunday. Easterly winds of 40 to 50 km/h will occur.” We are happy to be home ahead of the storm. We are tucked in. Sheba can skip her afternoon walk. I am not inclined to head out after our road trip. A change in our routine won’t hurt anyone. She is not complaining.

What can I say about my day? I’m proud to report that I made 3 phone calls this morning. One was to confirm an appointment. Two to book tickets to a play at Persephone Theatre. Three to book my Honda in for another recall for a faulty airbag inflator. Simple acts and yet mentally hard on certain days. Procrastinating on them adds more weight to the difficulty. Acting on them lightens the load. My mind isn’t preoccupied with undealth with issues.

I spent time reading a few more pages of Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself  by Joe Dispenza. I try to glean one or two points from each day’s reading. I should have made notes right after because now after many hours, I have to think and dig deep. What I remember is how surprised and delighted to find his voice similar to Caroline Myss’. All matter is made of energy including ourselves. It is universal. What is in one is in the whole. Thus, we are all connected. What I/each of us do affects the whole. What we put out into the universe will come back to us.

The universe is not looking good to me these days. Watching Russian President Vladimir Putin and U.S. President Donald Trump last night on the evening news certainly didn’t help. I could see how easily our world can be destroyed just like that – with a snap of the fingers. I don’t know how it affects everybody else. It depresses me. I wonder how we got here and where will we go next. How can I be excited about life on earth where nothing and everything matters?

That’s where I was this morning upon waking – not excited. It was not a good place or good way to be. I had to do a Byron Katie turn it around thinking. Is it true? Is it really true? What if it isn’t and I am excited? What if I am excited and everything does matter? What if I just put in that extra effort? What if I pretend I am excited? What if I just pretend till it becomes real?


Do you get fed up sometimes? Today I feel at the maximum fed up level. February is l-o-n-g. I had set out at the start with such heart felt hope. This was suppose to be my feel good month. Not that anything is wrong or that I’ve been plagued with a truckload of disasters. None of that. I just feel such malaise even though the sky is blue and the sun is shining. I need another cup of decaf.

Perhaps it is because of my recent sinusitis of the past week and a half. Not that it was such a struggle. It was a tad tougher than my usual state for I am forever complaining a lack of energy, of joie de vivre. I’m fed up with being a wet blanket, a party pooper and being my worse enemy. It’s good to let it all out. This is my space, my confessional. It is where I come to cleanse my mind and soul.

It doesn’t help that my sleep is disturbed lately. I had nightmares a couple of nights back. I screamed and screamed in my sleep. I thought it was only in my dreams. I was stuck in an elevator with unsavory man. I was scared to death. In my dream, I had trouble getting my screams out. It wasn’t so in real life. I woke the guy and Sheba as well. Then last night, I had trouble getting to sleep. I got up and read awhile. Luckily that helped. I slept and dreamt as well. Lucky it was not a nightmare. I dreamt about little cupcakes. The cost was $15 for 15. I guess the cost is nightmarish. I wonder if it was those little unsavory Italian meatballs that triggered the dream.

It really helps to tap out my feelings, whatever they are. I was seeing the world through bleak eyes. I couldn’t see the point of anything. The world is gone to hell in a hand basket:

  • The war in Syria. Seeing the dead babies on the evening news.
  • The school shooting in Florida. Hearing a politician saying the teachers need to have guns when the students were crying for gun control

These are the two weighing heavily on top of all the others right now. What can be done to make the world and humans better? Being fed up is not the answer I know. Now the question is how do I get out of it? I bet Oprah would say, Live your best life. A good answer, I’m sure but it won’t do for me. It’s too generalized, too neat. I have to chip, tap and hack my way out bit by bit.

I’m a fan of Sue Grafton. You’ve probably deduced it by the title of this blog. Her detective series is just what I need on my not so buoyant days. Janet  Evanovich is in the same genre. I’m glad it’s women that help me get through the tough days. Their energy, humour and narrative story telling take me away from the moody blues into adventure and laughs. I have to love that.

So another day comes to an end. I’ve limped through it but I’m still standing. I’ve gotten up, dressed up and shown up. I had to work a little harder at it. It was my Olympic effort, not a Gold Medal but nothing wrong with a Bronze. My mantra was I can do this. I can do this. So it went. Now I have a few more trays seeded – 3 kinds of tomatoes and geraniums. The petunias and chili peppers have germinated. Things do look hopeful. The effort is worth it.

When I have a Sheba, I have to make an effort. She wears my moods so I had to show her that I was okay. Nothing to worry about. She is safe and cared for. She is her confident and happy self again.




It’s Tuesday but it feels like a Sunday morning coming down. My brain must be lagging behind. Too much stuff to process. What’s happening to me, to us, to the universe?

These are the 2 recent world events that I’m trying to grapple with. Less than 2 months before there was the shooting in Las Vegas where 58 people were killed. On Oct. 31 the truck attack in New York killed 8 people. Is it any wonder that my brain is stalled? It is a good mechanism. I don’t/can’t understand such atrocities of the killers. As to the greed and duplicity of the mega rich, I don’t want to understand. And how can the government say one thing and do another? Even the Queen is not exempt from greed and tax evasion. Then there’s Bono, Madonna….I don’t want to hear any more names. Are there no heroes or heroines anymore? And where is love?

My brain is putt putting this morning. It’s not depressed. It’s just a tad stalled. The sun is glorious, the air cool and crisp. We are happy and snug. I still feel hopeful despite everything out there. I will focus more locally – just within my vision. I cast about too much, distressing my self, losing precious energy.  I guess I will have to get into my phone booth and do a costume change. I will be my own heroine and do the right things.


The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;

The words of William Wordsworth published in 1807. They very much describe what we are experiencing today. How strange that Wordsworth felt much the same – way back then!

The world is too much with me. It follows me wherever I go – all the news, good and bad. They seem to find me, no matter where I am, from every corner of the globe. I have no time or space to rest from all the restlessness of the world. I am connected all the time. I hear the good, bad and the ugly. I hear truths and I hear lies. I like to turn it off but I am addicted. I want to be in the real world, to be grounded and rooted like the big tree across the street.

But I am hooked, addicted to my little gizmo that glows in the dark. It vibrates though I thought I had shut it up. It wants to tell me everything. The world is too much with me. My brain is on fire with too much information. I see and hear all evil. I want it to stop. How do I start? What gods do I call up to give me strength and the will? Can I beseech the moon and the stars above or do I JUST DO IT?



So here I am, in my new/old .com space. I have more space but what do I have to say? The sky is overcast. The air smell of smoke. We are burning up on our West Coast while they are drowning in Texas. Then there’s the monsoon in India, killing over 1,000 people. But we don’t get much coverage of that. It’s still on the other side of the world. Texas isn’t within our vision range either but it’s in our livingroom every evening. So many terrible things are in our livingroom these evenings. If we don’t watch the news, does not knowing/seeing change anything?

The winds are blowing, bringing more smoke from the forest fires. Our planet and we are between a rock and hard place, I would say. What can we do? What can I do besides hope? Hope is an inert noun. We can hope, want and yearn all we want, but without action it is nothing. It’s just like the song says:

Wishin’ and hopin’ and thinkin’ and prayin’
Plannin’ and dreamin’ each night of his charms
That won’t get you into his arms
So if you’re lookin’ to find love you can share
All you gotta do is hold him and kiss him and love him
And show him that you care


So then, how do we show that we care about this world of ours? Where can we start? Try reading Active Hope by Joanna Macy and Chris Johnson. I have the book. Now I need to READ it. Really I do. The need comes up more frequently now. Reminding me to read, to do. At least I recognize it. I see the picture. I see the need. I’m talking about it. And we are bringing some hope for a greener life in the rainwater we catch for the garden, in the growing of our vegetables in the summer and in the solar power we’re catching with the panels. Not a lot in the grand scheme of things. But it is a start. Where are you at? How are you coping?