Contemplations of the Ghostlike

How the little things really rule nature.

Somewhere, in the past, there were these not so brilliant explorers, migrating people, and I venture to bet, not just a few that took the wrong turn and ended up setting up camp in a new undiscovered place and then named it...whatever.

I look around at the land type, indigenous bugs, insects, critters and weather and say WTF were you thinking?

On what plane of existence does it make sense to build a town, now city, at the forks of 2 rivers, in swampy land????

With the vast numbers of mosquitoes in certain areas of our province you would mistake us for some other idealistic sunny humid vacation destination, but no it's just Manitoba.

Why people ever stayed is beyond me, had they moved on to say...B.C. well...we would all understand that right?

From Sept to April your either in wet/cold, or horrendously cold/snowed climates, and in April you switch to wet/windy/cold...ice showers, rain and ice, fog, snow, tornadoes, sun...and then...wood-ticks/heart-worm/mosquitoes/thunderstorms/lightning/tornadoes...then heat/thunderstorms/lightning/tornadoes/mosquitoes/wood-ticks....summer is bug and tornado avoidance season, straight into Sept...where we start all over again.

I am not going to go into the pothole epidemic which makes the newly snow cleared roads of this province so full of holes, that you want snow back so your car has a chance at retaining good quality shocks/tires/suspension et all...no don't mention sink holes...lets go back to the little things that rule the summer.

BUGS

People who are either blessed with the blood that the vampiristic insects don't like, or they are too new to realize it, but when someone says we use to spend all our time outside...no...you use to build smudges for horses to stand in so that running from mosquitoes did not kill them from exhaustion because they never stop, well during the 100° heat they tend to leave you alone but the flies do not...the wood-ticks don't care they are the mini mugger of nature, bounding onto whomever innocently wanders by and looking for a spot to set up shop.

People make the mistake of thinking that we control the world, but we don't...when you step outside you are entering the war-zone of nature...go into the bush and you can join in the man v.s. bug conflict...and tongue in cheek aside, considering we spray areas from the air, or mobile foggers...how does it not seem like a war-zone?

What else on the planet, besides a really irritating individual with a feather tickling your nose in your sleep, can make you slap yourself repeatedly, and mostly miss what you were trying to kill? Yet, no one thinks it is odd, or out of place?

We were fixing fence once, and my mother wore a bright yellow shirt, when we finished she was covered with over 20 wood-ticks (I don't wear yellow). Of course, nowadays there are maladies spread by all these little critters that I don't recall even being a concern.

Ah...and if that all wasn't enough, humans are dumb enough to import another problem, “Asian Lady Bugs”, the bane of any dogs' existence.

It is lovely out, just the time you want to go out, mow the lawn, watch the lightning, let the 80km/h winds blow off the cobwebs, walk the dog along the lake...and then inspect yourself and your companion for the mighty mini minions of nature...make sure the dog has wood-tick and flea protection.

Soon the dog is going to experience the wood-tick, and insist upon watching it be flushed, just as it has to witness the demise of the hated asian lady bug...find a pet friendly repellent and prepare for the war of summer.

Again, what were they thinking to settle here?

What is old, is revamped, reworked and made new.

History is a very interesting thing, because there are facts in history, for example:

Dr. Barnardo's sent kids from England, to Canada and Australia, as indentured servants from the age 3 up.

The Australian and English have apologized but Trudeau, the relentless apologizer, has not.

Why? Because it was Caucasian children who were torn from families, or communities they loved/knew, and shipped to be (mostly) mistreated in far away lands as indentured servants. Slave labor.

J.F.K. was assassinated Bobby Kennedy was assassinated

Facts are things you can prove happened, the delicate details can be subjective, such as, the great conspiracy theory of who REALLY did the deed, or why J.F.K. was assassinated.

Examples.

Statues that remind us of instances from history, are revered in some countries, where there is an understanding that the subjective view of the person, place or instance depicted, may change but the existence of art, statues, places...keeps these things in the mind of the youth who may not find out about it otherwise.

The concentration camp remains, shout to the world that THIS HATE happened, despite the deniers, and we risk the erasing of valuable, if horrible, moments in history that we must not ever repeat or allow to be repeated.

To remove the reminder, you make it easier for history to be reshaped by those who wish a different interpretation, when history might have those little subjective nuances, but the facts, events, happened and good or bad, they enrich us.

We may hate what happened, but we can share the reminders with following generations.

When the British Home Children left England, most lost their connections to their families, cultures, personal history and their future generations struggle to this day to connect to what was lost.

When you remove a child, ship it across the world, and put it to work, what kind of knowledge of family, proper upbringing and indeed family connection, or ability to parent, can they have seen examples of, considering the masses that were mistreated?

My grandmother was lied to, told her mother and older sister were dead, and she was sent to Canada to work on a farm, with her 3 year old brother, who she never saw again.

My grandmother was 10, living in a barn, doing chores, growing up being abused and you want to discuss stigma?

So contemplate for a moment what this lady, as she grew up, knew of raising her own children? My mom was treated like a farm hand, with very little emotional connection, was not allowed in the living room, did chores just like the hired man...this is the fault of what was done to her mother by Dr Barnardos, the British government, and the Canadian government.

Mom was a far cry better, but she was not as affectionate, able to converse, or connected...because she had never experienced that herself, but she did her best.

There was no cultural connections, no knowledge of grand parents, great grand parents, and traditions? They were picked up without any foundation before mom.

History that is not acknowledged. My grandmother died at 105 and never received an apology, was gone before the monetary reparations happened, such as they were...and still today people are either ignorant, or dismissive because they were not a group of “minorities”...but many were abused, violated, murdered, and ill treated.

Only now, through the works of grand kids and great grand kids of these children, are there little monuments in cemeteries. Is this all they deserved?

So, I hear people being removed from their countries and brought here, and I know they will not lose their culture, ties to their homeland, and I am aware of the losses some may experience in connection but instead of being aware of the damage that was done before through bringing people here, we are doing it all over again.

I am tired.

The more you run on the treadmill, the behinder you end up being.

I bathed my baby, she was wonderful, only a couple roll episodes in dry spots until this morning...she found a mud puddle.

Of course I had 4 hours of sleep, woke up to concentrate on her before I left for work...and of course I was not looking forward to work.

My mud hen was so proud of herself, it is kinda hard to be upset with her.

All the work over the last year trying to get “Flouncer” to improve, and bingo not only has she whiplashed backwards, her attitude and treatment of me has spun out of control into the void of resentful silence or sinister wickedness.

Unlike the pleasant sensation of the merrygoround, work is one long drawn out instance of withstanding passive aggressive nastiness from a supposed adult. If I was to try to put it into words, it would sound so juvenile that one would wonder wtf?

The mud I can understand, but it is a microcosm of the whole situation, “rinse and repeat”...do the work Flouncer can't do, try to keep major issues from involving customers and all that for the ecstatically cheap rate of 1/3 of her salary... ...I am definitely tired.

Procrastination.

I think I have an excellence in procrastination for myself at home...I should shower...but I don't want to. Water gets in my ears despite the ear plugs and it is cold in here with the drafts... ...it is 2316hrs, what are you avoiding doing?

Looks like there were 80 km/h winds not so far away in that storm that went through...glad I was home with baby...and explains why she woke me up sitting on my head. lol.

I am not tired...oy I sound like a 3 yr old.

Read a little of an online article about Chernobyl...I remember it happening...I remember thinking how horrible for those people, the tenseness of hoping people get out alive. Would I ever consider going there for a visit? Not on your life.

Take the dog out, pill the dog, give the dog and myself a sip of milk, turn on American talk radio (red eye as they are amusing) and...try to stop avoiding sleep.

#Personal #Procrastination.

Co-worker conundrums 2

Just got a text from the boss...she has been good (like she was last week until I came in), but if she starts up after I arrive he will send her home.

oh joy.

Co worker conundrums.

I cry, I get a dog nose on my shoulder, and I have to make myself stop because I am making my baby sad...if not for her I would be far worse off than I am.

I am alone, well I have her, so am I alone?

The fear I feel when I contemplate losing her, causes tears, and I choke up, but then I struggle to remind myself that she is here, kicking me in the kidneys softly and the panic attack subsides just a little.

I talk to my dog.

If I did not talk to my dog, I would rarely speak...I am alone most of the time.

If I were to drop dead, it would be a while before anyone noticed, unless I was scheduled to work with the “flouncer”, my boss would call but not come check.

P.T.S.D., and the many facets of anxiety, grew from experiences not thin air.

Where does one meet people to chat about “stuff” to after your out of school and you live in the “bible belt”, new to the area?

Then again, it is hard for people to understand the importance of my baby to my life...I would not have made it out of England alive if not for her...and my Chicago cop online friend (who suddenly vanished 2 years ago into nothingness).

My co-worker has had a charmed life compared to me, but she has everyone feeling sorry for her, giving her the benefit of her self proclaimed hardships. Which weren't really, they were more like self brought on episodes of a selfish spoiled woman not caring to grow in the workplace.

I find myself wondering why it should matter?

I have never talked about my life, because of the shame, the embarrassment, and the knowledge of others viewpoint on the weakness of victims. Yet, Flouncer drones on about how she use to get hired for a job, and then lose it when they hired someone else.

Ok, they hired someone else because you were not doing the job, but your reaction to the hiring of another is what caused you the trouble.

If your on the business phone talking to your friends, family, etc and ignoring customers and your work...what is going to happen? Shift that to being on your cell...computer...and knowing that she has been told repeatedly and ignored it...where am I suppose to find the pity? Especially when I am the one she asks if she should be doing what when, or blames for all her mistakes and troubles.

I tried to be friendly, helpful, assure her that her job was safe, and it was, all the nonsense she has been pulling has caused her more trouble than my presence ever did. I was brought in to do her work, so she could keep her job until she retires.

I don't dislike her, I can no longer trust her, and the way she has been treating me has triggered not only my anxieties, but my ptsd.

Alas, jobs in this area are hard to come by, being in the middle of nowhere, you kinda gotta take what is and work with it.

I tried to help...my first mistake was forgetting that very often the untrained swimmer who seeks to rescue the drowning person ends up dead, drowned by the person who grabs onto them and in panic...sadness.

I did once jump in to help a friend who thought she was drowning, not being trained I went through the unexpected flailing of arms, being dragged under and being really lucky we both made it to the dock...while the paid life guard sat on the chair on the beach.

I remember vividly the terror, need to breath, and afterwards, feeling like a damn fool for not being a smarter 11 year old.

I like my job, it makes me happy, if Flouncer would stop banging, slamming, knocking my chair about...drama...queen...it would be a cool place to work. My being there does not change the fact that she can not perform the job, but the boss wants to keep her until she can get full pension, whether she likes it or not.

She was debating this man who was after her to date him, but he was still married (though separated), and her religion (which she doesn't seem to do more than preach about), frowns on dating someone who is still married. What did I think? He was online but not talking to her, he was taking other women out for coffee, he went to mexico alone? no? Her memory issues spread over all facets of her life, but she is perfect and never makes mistakes at work...her emotional instability flares and causes the boss stress nosebleeds, but she deserves to be treated better.

How about doing your job, not talking on the phone, messaging, worrying about you boyfriend, after work drama...just do your job? Stop blaming me, others for your mistakes or claiming we are making them up...honest the $1k worth of invoicing errors were not something I would ever dream up...yet she claimed I did it to sabotage her.

Say what?

Another staff member who always sticks up for her, because she has had a hard life, admitted she was not doing her main job duty, and when she found this out during a discussion with the boss...she said he was a liar. Poor man.

I have worked in high stress jobs, loved it, was good at it...I was also a shop steward at a company where most of those in power came from 3rd world countries and...wow...that stuff you would not believe.

I was working nights with the manager, during a labor case between the union and company over wrongful layoffs, and they hired a new girl...nice kid. We talked but not a lot because, well hey...she was on probation. On the 29th day, 1 day before she would be off probation and able to join the union, we went for coffee after work, were seen by a supervisor, and that night when she walked in she was given a letter and gone. No reason, other than, talking to me and the union.

And that was a small instance of what went on there.

So the Flouncer has no concept of what it is like to work in an abusive, harsh, atmosphere...like when we came off the picket line after 90 days and returned to work...oh was that fun, especially for shop stewards.

I did feel for her, until she started the lies, blaming others, and lets face it her treatment of co-workers is slipping into abusive.

I work tomorrow.

The boss will be there, but it's more difficult going in that it use to be.

Why would I want to leave my baby to go into that atmosphere, except for the money? That is sad, as it was a fun place to work, it is when Flouncer isn't there.

I am not perfect, I see my own mistakes better than anyone else...brood on them...but I admit for the first time my urge to help someone, has rebounded and I just want to be left to do my job in peace...doing the things that she can't.

How do you deal with resentment, when your not the real cause of the issues?

To make up for how the Flouncer was treating me, the boss showed me how to operate one of the pieces of equipment to have something positive before I left. That says something about the situation but I am too close to figure it out right now, cause the panic attacks over going in are starting, and I don't have someone to talk to about it, other than my sleeping baby.

#Personal #co-worker #PTSD #anxiety #dog

Who are you?

The answer to that small tiny question can take hours to answer, and for some, maybe there is no set response yet.

If you are not what you do, action, activity, “others”, can not be used to define who you are, how do you answer the question?

Too many people answer with non answers, my snippy quip would be “my dogs mom”...but that doesn't tell you WHO I am, it merely gives an emphasis to my life priorities.

As said dog leaps up growling and barking at the open window, because she hears cars drive by and splash in the puddles, but due to the curtains she can not see them.

Who are you?

Religion again, does not answer the question, as that is a belief and not, WHO you are.

We are the sum of our emotions, beliefs, life experiences, job choices (or lack thereof), any number of contributors from our life, community, and environment but...who are you?

If you were removed from earth to another plane of existence, what would you peg as you raison d'etre?

Most of us are too busy with the noise of technology, social media, quick absorbed connections and intense sharing of non-essentials to actually sit down and contemplate who we are.

Things are getting strange, not new because the things that are going on now, have all been before...there is a reason that they say if you do not know history you are doomed to repeat it...the erasing of the reminders of what was only allows it to happen again with a new entity holding the power to abuse.

My mother once said something very emotional, intense and regret filled.

When Hitler was doing his thing, a ship full of Jews escaped, sailing around seeking safe harbor...and they were turned away from everywhere.

The St. Louis, carrying 900 Jewish refugees were turned away by Canada. We were not alone, U.S.A. did it, the Brits...but the politicians of then can not claim ignorance...because Shmuel Zygielbojm and his brethren made sure they knew. When they returned to Europe, close to 300 of those refugees, that no one would take, died in the holocaust.

Why should my mother, an average, young Canadian, feel remorse, guilt and regret of the decision that she had no say in? It was the one raging moment of shame in being Canadian that she ever expressed. My mother, whose father was a Bavarian German, and whose mother was English/Irish, had no say in what the government did, she was not even of voting age. Yet, she felt for those helpless people that her government refused to allow to find sanctuary here.

I watch as they rush so called Muslim “refugees” to this country, take in those who fraudulently flee across the U.S. border, and yet the Christians seeking asylum are treated like that ship full of Jews.

Religion

There is no reason to be bringing unvetted people to this country, the world is fully capable of setting up safe havens overseas, enabling these people to return to their countries and rebuild what was, better than they left it...but the scorched earth policies of I.S.I.S. and many others do not allow the Christians displaced the mere chance for that.

Yet, as Trudeau apologizes for this faux pas of the Canadian past, the death ship, he ignores others who deserve apologies, and sets things up for another apology to those who should have been treated better to be dragged from a future Prime Minister.

Who are you?

Do you educate yourself on the past, not the hip crap floating about online, and fake news espoused by so many bright and shiny so called “NEWS” broadcasters. Pick up a book, encyclopedia (not wiki folks), and read, ask questions, and don't fall for the popular crowd...cause that has brought forth so many apologies that I can't even list them.

My mom was a Canadian, she cared about animals, friends, her work and she did her best to stand up for those who could not do so for themselves. That's where I get it from...but if you asked her who she was, she would say “Canadian” as the beginning of her sentence.

90% of the men in the family back then died in the war, the majority at Dieppe. They fought for a reason. To keep us from becoming what Hitler sought to spread...yet I see the early signs of what he did glimmer in the progressive mantras, and they don't even see the similarity.

Perhaps the old adage of, things swing one way, then rebound even further the other...pendulum of eras...the little stop points...knowledge...are being worn away by self interest, fluff and refusal to understand that facts of history, just are...they are not shaded by what I believe, or feel, or refuse to acknowledge...you can not judge then by what is the knowledge of today...anymore than you can judge the cave man by the automobile salesman.

I do not tolerate antisemitism, and anyone who does should be ashamed...elected politicians should be denounced and thrown out of office, and if you can not treat everyone equal regardless of race, colour, religion, income, sex, or situation, then you should not be allowed to seek to represent them in government. I may not walk in your shoes but I respect you for walking in them, and allow those who allow me, a voice, respectfully, to share knowledge.

If you do not hold your hand out to a stranger, then you are closed off. If you can not listen to a voice, then you are deaf. If you think your victim-hood makes you more than anyone else, your wrong. We have to start to strive for equality not better than the other guy crap.

Who are you?

#Personal #Politics #antisemitism #history #opinion #self discovery

Messages in a bottle.

Floating about on the sea...lake...river...stream...destination?

The simplicity of being, has never been simple. All the arts, religions, sciences that are devoted to teaching people that being is simple, exist because it's not.

My car is small, my suv is suppose to conserve gas, and due to my anxiety issues riding my adult tryk is impossible. The dude across the way has 4 vehicles, including a super orange charger type thing and they don't bat an eye at the cost at the fuel pump. If I could make my car hold its breath for a couple miles to pinch pennies, it would have a belt pulled tight around its mid drift and I would be chanting some encouraging mantra.

Of course, I don't live in a city, have no desire to, and I work some 30 minutes away. If there ever is bus service out here I will be long gone before it arrives.

I don't care about the neighbor and his gassy extravagances. What I care about is being able to get to work, without it costing me a days pay to do it.

No, I don't buy any science is ever undisputed, so I don't wholeheartedly swallow the “climate change” line...too many deadlines have come and gone and...anything we do here is not even a drip in the bucket to what China, India and other countries are doing so...if your going to tax people do it on how many vehicles they use...or something that does not hit the middle and low income family so hard.

My smart car can only be used in the summer, it makes a wonderful snow holder in the winter, and the roads are such that...don't even think it. Though everyone would get howls of laughter out of the attempt, after they dug you out (you hope).

It is simple to exist...just exist? Not unless you have given up hope, life and all the bits in between.

Someone said to me recently, what did they do in the old days? Well, my mom and grama used a horse and buggy.

Conversation stopper there. #Personal #gas tax

How the internet made the intimate both immediate and less valued, and made it easier to focus on the world away, instead of the world outside.

How many people share, preach they care, pronounce, denounce, and shout for the others of elsewhere, while neglecting the facts of the challenges of the others outside their door?

It isn't “nationalist” to expect fellow country persons to be taken care of before, the folks in other countries, from other countries, special interest un needy and just plain greedy.

The local food bank is a joke...yet I see a buy food to feed people in mexico....uhm folks...it might not be sexy, sublime or internet hero worthy, but there are those closer who are in need, now.

Dog shelters Food Banks Homeless vets Seniors without family

The list can go on.

I think I am tired of the “sexy” headline grabbing politicians who send millions or billions overseas, while neglecting those that I see here.

Why is it we can't cut a politicians pay, to help the homeless? Seniors? The list is not short...and perhaps if the job had less lucrative overtones, those who truly care would step up.

If you fix your neighbors house, then both you and your neighbor can help fix someone else's.

But on the internet, well...it's sexier to be part of the groups...victimized...anti something...safe space needing...real life avoiding.

Yet, should you end up on the street, hungry, it is not going to be the recipients of the foreign bound charity that is going to pick you up...if someone does, they are going to be locals...who contribute because they care.

Not sexy but if politicians were as responsible, we might be better off. Then we can worry about whats going on over there. When your kids classmate is not sitting there in old torn clothes, lacking lunches and sleeping in a van.

Just a thought. #Personal #causes worth your time

I am listening to my dog snore. She is my comforting, constant companion...who I fear losing more than anything else in the world (literally).

I lucked out when I got her, a present from the crazy English ex...she kept me going when I thought I should just give up.

She is the most adorable, devoted, patient, caring, emotionally and mentally supportive, cute, smart and cuddly 50lb dog on the planet.

She has not been healthy, which makes my stress level increase volumes.

She loves laying in the sun, riding in the cars, going for walks, finding bunnies...killing Asian ladybugs...or pointing them out to her parents to kill for her...the barking does not stop until they are DEAD, DEAD and show her your flushing them.

I have to leave my best bud, who does not understand it, to go to work with...the flouncer. Now that I could easily come to resent.

Why can't I sleep???

Maybe soon.

#Personal #dog