Making It Up As I Go Along #242

MONDAY…
--- Work is alright. Pretty busy but fine.
--- Squash night is fine for the sweat but I’m not winning much. Bah!

TUESDAY…
--- Work is pretty good. Not too busy but not sitting around bored either. After work it’s movie night with Missy… double feature at the Mayfair. Two very different and good movies. I especially like Half Nelson… but it’s no feel good, cheery flick… for the most part anyway.
--- Thanks to the movie it’s a late night to bed.

WEDNESDAY…
--- Work is sort of busy with a tour coming through for me to deal with and a few extra hours after the day is over with Linda and me working on resumes.
--- Little early evening nap.

THURSDAY…
--- Near that time when I have to say I just stink at squash. I think I’m getting worse! Racquet sports have never been my thing.
--- Work is alright… sort of slow morning and busy afternoon.

FRIDAY…
--- Work’s okay. Meatloaf for lunch is quite good actually, that cafeteria does it all.
--- Some after work drinks with Nick, Louis, Casey and Isaac.
--- Evening in front of the computer, and with the World Series, and some other TV… and a nap.

SATURDAY…
--- Quebec is a nation again. The Liberals are starting to talk about calling the Province of Quebec a nation within the nation of Canada. If this becomes a serious Liberal push whenever the next federal election comes, I won’t vote Liberal. Quebec is a nation just as Newfoundland is. The two provinces are just as unique… there’s more to it than language and I, as a Newfoundlander, won’t accept special rights given to Quebec while Newfoundland gets lumped in with the rest of the country. Stupid stuff… if this is the way politics will go, Canada will die. There’s probably at least six or seven ‘nations’ within Canada. Pacific Nation… Prairie Nation… Quebec… Ontario… Maritime… Newfoundland… Northern Nation… Native Nation. For me, Quebec is either part of Canada or it isn’t… and the people of Quebec have to make up their mind what they want and that’s it. And perhaps, the people of Quebec is nothing more than a minority of outspoken ones… cause when it came to a vote historically, the people choose Canada.


Rocket Leaves
So much would be missed with blindness. And no, I’m not going blind… I just recently got a new pair of glasses and see things a bit more clearly than I had for the last year or two.

And sitting here, wondering what to write about today, I was looking out the window on a grey, blustery day… and I just watched leaves shot up through the air.

Talk of blindness always goes back to the basic visions we’d lose. Sunsets… the face of a loved one… mountain vistas. It’s all true. I’d miss all of these things if I was never able to see again.

But there’s the other things like… skyward shooting leaves. Fall always gives the image of red, yellow and orange leaves drifting gently to the ground. The tree lets go and watches them drop to the earth.

It’s the unique that we need to pay attention to though. I’m sitting in my second story living room with no tree visible from my seat, and I just saw several leaves launched upwards by the gusts of swirling wind.

There are many things not to be taken for granted. Moonlight on the sea. Mischievously gleaming eyes. Looking down at the lights of a small town from atop a mountain, just as dusk fades to night.

I’ve enjoyed seeing my father standing in the airport, looking around the arrivals room and not seeing me until I’m standing there slapping him on the shoulder.

I’ve enjoyed seeing my niece’s eyes. You can see their thoughts through their eyes… one working through and analysing and the other plotting and demanding your love.

There’s my sister’s laugh… which although it can be heard, the visual adds to the moment.

Sometimes vision is needed to protect ones safety. Walking with my mother is often a hazardous event. Only once have I felt the ache but I’ve feared it often and watch her pendulum of pain closely. You see, mom walks a touch faster than I do and she walks with her right arm swinging back and forth in a most energetic way. And mom is shorter than me… leaving her club like hand perfectly in line for delicate locations on the men of this world.

If I walked faster, I’d be along side rather than slightly behind… if I were taller, my thigh would take the brunt of the damage… shorter, and my stomach’s abs could be tightened in time for protection. But at my height and pace of walk… I must watch my mom closely at all times.

There’s much to see. Some of it you fear, some of it you love. And some things just trigger the imagination to dream up all sorts of thoughts and emotions. Just look what a skyward bound set of leaves did for me.