April 11, 2017
“Where have you been?” cry my fast and firm readers. A frequent refrain of late I do admit.
I have been climbing one mountain after another, one foot and all that. With that, the list of life, winter edition, is just about at a standstill. Not that I get to plan my life, any of it it seems, wish fervently that I could. No, I am at the time of life where I know, that it is how you react to things that count. I therefore wish to announce, the house, the first floor, has been painted. That was only the beginning, I found out. “Fromage Frais” thru out the bnb. In places I never thought would be, the laundry room unseen by guests, painted, a first since 1991. The color is of my devising, I have to brag, white with hint of yellow.
In your absence my dear and gentle readers, this was not planned, I assure you, at all, I had a sweet young thing come in and counsel me. Someone who has a way better fashion senses. Came in, a recommendation of gray thru out was made. This would have supported my tenancy of hibernation of months at a time, which I do very well indeed. To combat Canadian winter, the remedy is not “just think cheerful thoughts.” As I tilt in that direction anyway, I supported my mental health with wall colours. My lungs have recovered from the “fume-less” fresh paint, but did have a cough that would wake up guests if I had any.
My fashionista then proceeded to bring inn accouterments, mirrors, lamps, flowers, vases, tablecloths, floor coverings. I cannot begin to count the candles strewn about. What was left of the plants were scooted upstairs. All of which make the furniture somber.
I actually left and went to visit friends up north, to the mouth of the St Lawrence, to view “La Belle Province,” across the way. Ice breaking up season, and took her majesty with me. It was a break from reality for three days. I would highly recommend. We returned to clean, pick up plaster dust, and move furniture back.
Other big time events included, which I may have reported on was the tub being reglared. It has in fact, since bubbled up and we are awaiting progress on that front, pictures being taken to send to the manufacturer of that paint. The washing machine leaked, after having been moved, I thought. Thus had a visit, we are into generations of repair men now, with Flirty man’s son. We discussed baby names as he is of the age to have children.
I should know better, he commandeered his twin, a bit older than he, for plumbing. I was fit in as it were after an appointment to get his hair cut. Young he was, too and discussions about accountancy and book keeping ensued. Taps, not the lament, but might as well have been. Well, now every orifice of the machine spews HOT water. The older twin, has to return, he has not as yet, to get paid, so I am assured of the return visit. I will, in fact, and great vigor, bring up the hot water situation with him, when he returns.
We are jockeying for position, for other workmen for the start of the spring fling. That being where you fling money at repairs that have surfaced thru the winter months, or in my case old ones that did not work. Strewn in all this, the normal winter efforts, to armed combat, yes indeed, the reservation systems . All efforts, for naught, only find out that we still have a control system in place that is not to be.
The temperatures have gone in the other direction, but the schizophrenia continues, given we have slipped into the fourth month of the year. Today we are going to a high of 17/66 jumping the line. Most of the snow from the front lawn is gone, leaving behind another chore to do.
I learned as well that a friend from McGill days, (were they not just yesterday?) passed away in December unexpectedly. He was the “go to” guy when you wanted an address, email, or phone number of the group that resided at the YMCA student housing on Drummond Street. He will be fondly remembered as the judge of the kissing contest, held at the Quebec Winter Carnival, so long ago. I was the silver medalist.
My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style. Maya Angelou Moi and Miss Lucy P