Hmmmm- Let’s see where this ends up—

Posted by Jim - November 25th, 2014

Tuesday, November 25, 2014-


Taken on a visit to Hopewell Rocks, on the Bay of Fundy in August, 2014

I updated from an ancient version of wordpress and just tried to revamp a couple of minor aspects of  the look of this old blog.


Now let’s see where this ‘post’ ends up.



Digging Through Old Boxes

Posted by Jim - July 27th, 2014

Sunday, July 27, 2014 -( 22°C / 72°F @7:45 pm )-

—Trying to clear a space in the basement where I can bring musty boxes from storage in and go through stuff, I found our turn table, brought it upstairs, had a couple real world adventures with Cathi and plugged it in. The first thing I played was “Song to a Seagull” by Joni Mitchell.

But, before I got to plugging in the turntable, & before Cathi got up, I carried two old boxes in from the van and went through old papers and notebooks and found a couple treasures. One of which I may not be able to format for this blog. I’m also wondering if I should attempt to update to WordPress 3.9.1 … Would this theme work with the new update?

On a brighter note, Cathi and I went out to get a couple things and we spotted a bunch of plants in front of the Home Hardware store on Main Street. On impulse we went in and now have a bit of a brightly coloured flower garden in the “Zen Corner” of our back yard. I will take a photo or two in the next couple days, but the sky is threatening storm-ness at us.

So, anyway, lets see how we’re doing here…


Duh-, It’s a Thursday, And the Boof is boofing at the door.

Posted by Jim - June 20th, 2013

Thursday, the 20th of June, 2013. Warm and muggy at 24˚C / 73˚F at almost 4:15 pm, up here in the (cough cough) clean air? in the great white north? (( If I lived in an igloo I’d’ve drowned? )).

Um, I started out early, er, earlier than usual for me. I thought I might be able to clean up a bit, or straighten up a bit, or perform some kind of cosmetic surgery on the 24 by 36 loft area of the garage (2nd storey). I remembered how painful it can be trying to go through tons of stuff you have to sort through. I also learned that it warms up pretty fast in the morning. Even when it starts out at something like 6˚C/44˚F.

I found some photos the other day, mixed in with some automobile schnarr (Schnarr = universal euphemism for gunk, junk, poop, & anything else you’d probably rather not deal with at the moment you’re looking at it.)

Photos from 1986 when my nephew, Dave, was 17 & 18 months old.

By ten ayem it was already too hot to try to arrange the schnarr in the garage/attic, and I had to go to the bank and play stupid to get help making a payment on something that should have been a lot easier. Yes the banks really are making war on their customers, but they’re also making war on their employees, and I got a nice one to help me make the payment. ((the deal is, Cathi gets an extra special birthday and mother’s day gift from me when the bank gives me a ‘free’ samsung tablet for opening an overpriced ‘infinity’ account and completing 2 of three quests, paying a bill on line and setting up prepayments of another bill.)) (Like I said, it should be easy. But the prepaid deal has some twists and turns along the way. And the payee doesn’t like Visa cards that are really debit cards. [(It’s a conspiracy!)] So when I tried to make a manual payment to the payee, it told me I was a complete idiot and should drown myself in that kind of alcohol that you can’t drink, because it’s poison. I forget, is it wood alcohol?) Anyway, I survived the bank. I survived the gas station/convenience store where I picked up an 18.9 liter/5 us gallon jug of water and I survived a side trip to a Wendy’s where I got me a chicken sandwich and got the dog a plain junior hamburger.

I almost didn’t survive trying to scan some of the photos I found today and some I found last week and I found out that the computer I can boot in Mac OS 9 is having a problem with every microphone I try to connect to it. I wonder if it needs one of those goofy mic’s that looks like the bio pod for the martians driving the scary killing machines in the old War of the Worlds Movie with Gene whatsisname as the hero. ( I think he played Bat Masterson on Wyatt Earp or one of those ancient black and white teevee westerns. He might even have had his own Bat series back then.)

So it began to feel like I wasn’t going to get anything to write home about done today, and when the boof wanted to go bark at neighbours and people walking their dogs (Imagine! those dogs wouldn’t come over and play with him- now that’s a crime.!) Poor boof. I took a look at the back yard and thought I better do some yard schnarr. –> I cut the grass and got a million mosquitoes angry or maybe just whipped them into a feeding frenzy and now my arm itches like….. you know….

And (sigh) I still got a little bit done. It feels like I’m trying to avert a mudslide by making sand castles, but I think I’m actually getting somewhere. I just hope that somewhere is a place where Boof and the meow gang and Cathi and I can be deliriously happy when we get there.

The spelling checker is okay with deliriously, but it doesn’t like the word ‘and’- now that’s weird…..


Wednesday in the Garden of Earthly … whatever….

Posted by Jim - June 19th, 2013

Wednesday, June 19, 2013. I think it might be Kyle G.’s Birthday. 6˚C / 41˚F @ 6:30 am. (( more like 15˚C / 59˚F @ 11:30 am. ))

The Orange cat is threatening to shred my bare foot.

—okay, the cat is outside in his cat run ( cage ) the dog’s on the floor looking worried about all the boxes that have appeared in the living room.

—Funny how the de-cluttering process makes for a much bigger mess than you started with.

—We bought a bundle of 25 small boxes yesterday. Several of them are set up and taped at their bottom(s?) and are partially filled with ‘stuff’ in a thematic sort of way. Argh, now I’m wondering what I did with the receipt. ack, it’s got to be here somewhere.

—So, after a night of walking around in circles like a zombie, trying to decide what to put in which box, I think I realized I just sat and stared blankly for half an hour or so, at the oddly sand castle like arrangement (mess) of boxes that have grown in the living room.

I sighed and wandered over here to my G3 iBook with 640 megs of sd ram. I’m connecting to the internet through a version of firefox that nobody remembers but me (v ((which was probably the last version you could left click to open a new window dialog box instead of the insidious right click that became the isidious ‘default’ from this version on. I think this version is so old and/or obsolete that it doesn’t even bother telling me I really should update/upgrade. heh heh heh…)) ((( the version of word press is also an oldy. it wants me to upgrade/update every time I log in to do anything inside it. ))) As soon as I sat down at the computer the cat insisted it was my job to do nothing but pay strict attention to and cater to the cat. (((( so now I’m hoping I don’t forget he’s outside in the cat run when I collapse into the dream realm and lose touch with this ‘consensus’ reality. ))))

—Ack, the iMac is complaining that a usb device isn’t getting enough power, I should plug it into a power source? but it didn’t tell me which bleeping USB device is not getting enough power.

—oh yeah, and the plant we got for our prosperity corner is wilting.

— aaaaaaaaaaaa——


Yooks Yike We Be Movin….. (Yikes?)

Posted by Jim - June 2nd, 2013

(((((Copied & Pasted: )))))

The Move is On

Sunday, June 2nd, 2013.  22˚C / 70˚F in the Ottawa area (from two different sources) (It’s nowhere near as Muggy  as yesterday here—)

A young boy thought I looked like Gandalf in “The Hobbit” yesterday. Last March a slightly drunk young man called out to his friends, “Hey look, it’s Dumbledoor!”

(Ouch, my neck-)

So, we didn’t know for sure until Wednesday whether we would actually be moving or not. Cathi had a job offer, & the Department of Fisheries and Oceans up here is hurting for people with her knowledge and expertise, && they wanted her there by New Years day. Um, it took them until most of the way through May to get the actual job offer in her hands and wanted us to move about a thousand miles and be ready for her to start by like, tomorrow? And then a mix up in the details of how they were going to help us move had Cathi ready to flip them the bird and call out something like, “In your dreams, Ice Holes!” But the guy who knew what he was doing, unlike most guys who know what they’re doing, was at the top of their food chain and he diplomatically whacked the person on the wrist who had told Cathi that she wasn’t going to get much help getting there.

We had a Real Estate friend come over with a chain saw and a branch pruning pole and, in yesterday’s heat, cut back some bushes, loaded a bunch of shrub prunings onto his trailer and turned my forehead red from exposure to sunlight, (I didn’t blush it this colour.)

No- we don’t live in igloos up here year round. Yes, Canadians with European colouration do get sunburns when we’re halfway to the North Pole.

———And, man, do I have a lot of dreams to tell you about. (If it’s tomorrow there are probably several of those dreams either above this message or pr-dated to get them below, closer to where they actually happened.)

——— (Busy up North),


Still Alive, and Kicking?

Posted by Jim - April 22nd, 2011

Yeah, it’s been a while.

The problem is, the get a new password if you lost yours routine is broken. Something does not like the ‘key’ it sends you. and it keeps sending you the same key, and the routine keeps telling you the key is invalid.

And then again, I made the notebook notation where I wrote down the ‘new password’ intentionally cryptic (silly me)

So after much frustration, and a little bit of elation, maybe even giddyness when the last attempt actually worked-

Here we are.

Moe is complaining upstairs, “maoww maaow maaow maaaow-”

Everybody else is sleeping. “zzzzzzz zzzz zzz zzz zzzZZzz ZZZZz zzzzz”

And here I am, messing with blogs that weren’t dead, just sleeping. Mercury goes direct tomorrow.


Suicide and Morally Crippling Your Survivors.

Posted by Jim - September 11th, 2010

Saturday, September 11, 2010.

Wow- this has been tough. I mean I can stop any conversation dead in its tracks with, “My brother in law burned his house down and blew his brains out last Wednesday, how the bleep are you?”


I spent the first couple days feeling like he was standing here, not upset, not overjoyed, I felt like he was relieved and okay with whatever he’d been through. I could have sworn the first message from him from ‘beyond’ was “well, I understand you a lot better now.” And I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

Did Somebody guide him through a life review and if he had gone into that with any bad feelings or unresolved issues with me or with anybody, had he been able to see the other person’s or persons’ limitations and whatever from a fresh perspective that convinced him that, for instance, I wasn’t a complete and useless idiot?

I also felt like I was in contact with somebody, if not my brother in law, then a higher power who was there with me to make sure I got through this.

And I don’t know exactly what all the insights and ramifications will turn out to be in the end, but I spent three or four days waking up freezing and shaking to the point where my chest muscles ached from extreme fatigue, almost to the ‘worrisome’ degree.

When I told Cathi about the freezing and the shaking, she said that was symptomatic of a panic attack.

I really don’t think I was having panic attacks. I think I was reaching for my brother in law, searching him out in the next world, and, if I wasn’t fully remembering what we might have said to each other, I felt like I was making positive contact, that either he was okay with being wherever he was or that I’d been able to convince him that he didn’t have to punish himself.

The newspaper article said he had photos of my sister and their daughter (who’d died in a fire before her 6th birthday in 1996) clutched in his hand when they found his body.

I did come away from that feeling okay about myself and him.

But then I heard that he blamed my niece (his step daughter) in the note he’d left.

And I couldn’t get her on the phone.

Email messages back and forth to my sister, Nancy, in Connecticut kept me worried.

And a birthday card from our ‘adopted’ sister Diane in Connecticut with her phone number led to a phone call that made me feel like I have decent friends and they have a decent friend in me and we’re good for each other. And if things might not exactly be ideal on this planet at the moment, at least we’ve got each other.

But I’m still worried about my niece. I’m worried that she didn’t try to call me (I’m pretty sure she has the phone number that should be a free or at least cheap call for her.) I don’t know whether this means that she’s okay or she’s really in bad shape.

Suicide leaves survivors in a rough state. I mean, even if we feel like we were totally blameless and the person who killed himself or herself was out of touch, deluded, or whatever, we still have to deal with a deep down, “-well, maybe I should’ve realized that his or her actions were a scream for help. Could I have done anything to help? Was there anything anybody could do? Was it just his time and if he hadn’t stuck a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, would he have been killed by a drunk driver? or a stray bolt of lightening?”

I can’t blame him for anything. I don’t feel compelled to climb up on any phony pulpit and deliver a silly sermon demonizing anybody. (This may be a large dark blot on the consciences of anybody who works for a bank or a mortgage company. This world’s ‘accepted’ ‘economics’ philosphies and/or practices hammered the nails into his coffin more effectively than the gun manufacturers or bullet manufacturers ever could. Oh, yeah, that was the final straw. They foreclosed and sold the property and told him to get out or they’d send the cops and drag him out. Should I hope the person who bought the place has an intensely painful psychological run of things? I’d never want to live any place where a previous owner had been forced to leave by some arbitrary human laws that give banks and greedy powerful ignoble immoral/amoral bastards domain over property that should never be considered theirs in the first place. But it’s not for me to judge. (I said with an impish, nearly demonic, grin).)

As far as I can tell, my brother in law really really wanted to be with his wife and daughter and would have found some excuse to get there ‘by hook or by crook’. And I don’t think any reasonable person could have expected me to be able to know the time and place when he decided he was really going to do it, and everybody pretty much knows I can’t teleport myself there and teleport all the guns and bullets and knives and pills into some other dimension- (Or teleport the brother in law into some warm and fuzzu, friendly, safe environment, this side of heaven, where a determined individual such as himself couldn’t get his hands on anything lethal.) But I am worried about my niece.

And I’m walking around with this sense of dread, like maybe in the process of contacting my dead brother in law I picked up a little bit of his state of mind and now need to work that off, and it won’t kill me, but it won’t be a snap, either.

And then again, this is earth and the vibrations out here are still pretty weird and messages from the Divine realms some times get twisted and distorted and I’m probably going to have several days if not weeks or feeling like all the fuses in my nervous system have been blown, and a cloud of ‘pins and needles’ is hanging around my head and neck and shoulders and I will be very vulnerable other’s negative states of mind. (but at least I won’t believe their depressions and delusions are ‘mine’.)

I feel like I need a lot of sleep. But I’ve got too much that I have to do, first. & In the last few days I haven’t been waking up shaking and freezing, but I’ve been waking up aching, almost severely.


God Bless us. We surely need it.