Corona Crisis Crafting II: There be Dragons

Another cheat post, because I started those last week as well.

I want to redecorate the front yard and therefore ordered some very cool latex moulds. I still have plenty of pouring concrete left from the renovations, so I can probably breed a lot of them.

Here’s the first, not so good attempts:

©Giliell, all rights reserved

My attempts in supporting the moulds weren’t as successful as I thought they would be. The wings on this were supposed to be upright, which isn’t a big issue, but I also made my concrete too wet*, so when I tried to demould it after the recommended 5 days, it was still too wet and the tips of the wings broke off.

Next one:

©Giliell, all rights reserved

I left that one for a few more days to dry, which worked out well, but… the weight of the concrete pushed the head down.

For my next attempts I buried the moulds in damp earth. I’ll have to get myself some regular sand for the next ones, but I hope that this time they wont be flat.

Last one is a cute little croc, only that I broke off its tail, but that was easily fixed with some glue.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

 

*As my dad said: It’s too dry, too dry, too dry right until it’s too wet.

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

I love the blue collection pails that our favourite local maple syrup producer uses. They’re cheerful, and add a nice bit of colour to the muddy grey landscape of early spring. They also mean that it’s time for the 4H pancake breakfasts that they host each weekend in March. It’s a good time for a good cause. Each of the local 4H clubs is assigned a Saturday or Sunday to host and serve breakfast and all of the funds that are raised that day go to their club. They serve bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes and all the maple syrup you want. It’s held in a small space attached to their storefront, and it’s always busy and somewhat chaotic, and half the fun is watching the young boys and girls (aged 10 – 18) in stiff white aprons acting as wait staff. They have a difficult job. The tables are crowded together, and there isn’t much room to move around. Seating is at a premium, and there’s generally a line of people waiting, making the configuration of people at tables quite fluid. It’s a lot to keep track of and the kids work hard to make it all work. Sometimes your order takes a while, or it isn’t correct, but people seldom complain. Most everyone leaves happy, well sated and sticky. We’ll be going this weekend, but dogs aren’t allowed so Jack will have to stay home. He isn’t pleased and tells me that I’d better bring him back a sausage. You betcha, Bubba.

Jack’s Walk

The moss is sprouting! ©voyager, all rights reserved

Over the winter, Jack has been walking on the trail beside me, but today he kept wandering into the forest, and even though there’s still plenty of clean snow on the ground, Jack has a knack for finding the messy places.

“Your feet are all muddy, Little Buddy,” I called out as he ambled toward me.

“I Know Mommy, isn’t it wonderful. I love the way mud feels when it squishes between your toes, don’t you?” he replied as he kept walking past me and into the trees again.

“Toe squishing is fun, Jack, but I prefer to do it when the air is warm, and the mud is just a bit cool, not icy cold like today… Hey, where are you going? I thought we could walk together,” but he was already gone, and I was left talking to myself. When I finally found him around the next bend, I pointedly asked why he kept wandering off.

“The forest folk are awake, Mommy! I’m just going around saying hi.” Jack’s face was gleaming with delight, and his tail was sailing high and waving happily.

“That’s nice, Bubba. How are things in the wee world?”

“Busy. The plants are all waking up early, and it’s too soon for some of them, and the farmers and voles can’t manage it all, so everyone is pitching in. Mrs. Noyless said that even the governors are helping to tickle roots. Oh, there’s Chitchat Charly, Mommy. I’ll catch-up. Bye,” and he was off again, leaving me with a few points to ponder and knowing that Jack would be reticent to tell me more.

I’m going to have to find a way to earn the trust of the little folk. They’ve been watching me for 16 years, so they must know that I’m friendly and kind. Maybe there’s something that I can do to be of service to them. Maybe there’s something they want or need that I can bring them. Maybe, it’s going to be an interesting spring.

 

 

Jack’s Walk

Spring has arrived ahead of schedule. ©voyager, all rights reserved

“Shit!” I heard my husband cry out this morning, waking both Jack and me rather suddenly.
“Voyager, get up.” I immediately knew what the problem was. Mr. V. had an out-of-town appointment for a test today, and we’d overslept. I quickly glanced at the clock to see that it was already after ten, and our test time was for 10:15, and it was a 45-minute drive to get to there. Shit indeed.
I jumped up (ok, it was more of a grunting wobble-up than a jump) and grabbed my phone to call the Dr’s office. Then I had to search for my glasses so that I could actually see well enough to use my phone, and I called the clinic to let them know we had a problem (I tried to be as vague as possible) and that we’d be seriously late.
The receptionist was very understanding and said to try to get there as soon as possible, and she would fit us in. I told the Mr. to lie back down so I could apply his leg compression neoprene stockings because he needs them on before he can get dressed. We managed that quickly, raced through our ablutions, then I grabbed from my closet rather than do my usual ‘what about this or maybe that’ and we were dressed and ready to go in about 10 minutes.
Poor Jack was still sleepy and in bed, but he came when I called him for breakfast. I swear he ate as slowly as possible, but he finally lifted his head out of the bowl and gave me a happy smile and a cheery good morning. Since there wasn’t enough time to go for a walk, we decided to take Jack with us, and I called him to the front door. Bubba doesn’t ‘do’ rushed, and he meandered toward me at a snail’s pace until I finally met him halfway and snapped on his leash, hoping it would speed him up a bit.
It didn’t, but a slow crawl and two pees later, we finally made it to the car and got underway. Luckily, traffic was light, and we arrived at the clinic in a bit under 40 minutes.
Jack was a bit grumbly on the way, but he soon cheered up when I took him for a walk while the Mr. went in for his test. Jack and I live in a small city of about 40,000 people, but the clinic is in a large city of about 400,000 people, and it’s full of exciting smells. It took us 15 minutes just to walk the length of one block because Bubba kept stopping to sniff. Some places required a long, thorough sniff, some spots required a small touching by the tongue for taste and some needed a bit of extra pee, which Jack happily added, By the time we made it back to the car, the boy was empty and tired. I lifted Jack into the backseat (he gets the front half in, and I heft up the Mr. Heavybum half), and my sweet Bubba adorably curled up on his bed and went to sleep.
Soon, Mr. V was back, and we set off home with Jack snoring the entire way. Jack’s sleepiness is a sign of his advancing age, and so is my own oversleeping, but we’re still together, and today we enjoyed the simple pleasures of sunshine, blue skies, trees in bud, and a symphony of strange smells in a new neighbourhood.

Jack says to thank you all for the birthday greetings, and I thank you for all of your kind words.

Jack’s Walk – an Admin Note

Evening at The “Pink” Posada, Manzanillo, Mexico ©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s hard to admit that you’re not coping well, but today’s walk is an admission of sorts.

While I was in Mexico, I had limited access to wi-fi, and rather than struggle trying to find a place to read and post, I gave up and took an internet break, which turned out to be edifying. It goes back to the time my mother was dying last year. Mom suffered constant anxiety and required a lot of support, which her caregivers at the nursing home struggled to meet. Neither she nor I had the funds to hire extra help and I took the task on myself. It turned out that I was spending 6 to 10 hours a day with her, hand-holding, calming her fears and helping with her personal care needs. She was expected to die in mid-August from an acute infection, and in agreement with her Dr., we withheld antibiotics as a palliative measure, keeping her as comfortable as possible, but not treating the cause. As it turned out, Mom beat the infection, surprising everyone. She didn’t recover, though, and her decline took many more weeks until she finally succumbed at the end of October. Each and every day I was there – for most of the hours of the day and many hours of the night. My husband and friends all worried about me doing too much, but I couldn’t see a way clear to change things. I’m an only child and so was my mother and all of our family is in Germany, so there was no one else to help.

My mother suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), and she could be difficult to deal with. Our relationship was complicated, and I was hoping that by being there for her at the end of her life, we could make peace with each other. That didn’t happen. She wasn’t able to give me what I wanted, but over those many weeks, I lost the need for it. I accepted that her BPD dictated who she was and how she related to the world around her. Slowly I found compassion for her and came to realize how distressing her emotional life had been. My care for her gradually became about pure love for a mother who did the best she could despite her own struggles. It was an emotionally complicated time for me, and there were many days that I fought my own anger, exasperation and disappointment. By the time she finally died, I had let go of a shit ton of crap, but in the process, I burnt myself out, and I never really recovered from it.

Being unplugged in Mexico, I had time and space to reflect on a lot of things, and one of the more difficult epiphanies that I had was that I’ve been putting too much energy and time into this blog. I posted my first Jack’s Walk on March 23, 2018, and since then, I’ve been here every day in one form or another. That’s almost 2 years of daily effort, and I’m worn out. It’s also partly my fibromyalgia. I have a good regime in place (thank you, medical marijuana), and I can often ignore the smaller symptoms, but the larger ones still crop up, especially when I’m tired or overstimulated.  Please, don’t get me wrong… I love this blog and the people who populate it. I wouldn’t have come this far otherwise, but Jack’s Walk has been feeling stale and repetitive, and I need a bit of a break from it.

What does that mean? I’m not really sure in the long-term, but for now, it means Jack and I will only be here twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. In between those days, there might be a post about Russia or Mexico or maybe something else altogether or nothing at all. I have other ideas and maybe taking a break from The Walk will allow me the energy to explore some of them. I’ll still be around every day, but some days it might just be in the background. Charly has thankfully recovered and is posting regularly now, keeping us informed about setting up a new knife-making business and forge with ingenuity and resourcefulness. He’s also sharing with us the art of Bonsai. Giliell still shares her work struggles, her beautiful photos, her art of food and resin, as well as her fearless fight against the Patriarchy, so that relieves some of my stress about keeping this blog alive and viable, which has been my goal since the beginning.

Being a blogger was never something I set out to do; it happened because of the death of a friend, but this blog is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given. I always wanted to write, and thanks to all of you, I’ve been able to do that. Now, I hope to catch my breath and focus a bit more on my real life so that I can keep writing and maybe even improve at it. My final thought for today is one of gratitude. The best part of this blog is the way the world has opened up to me. I’ve made friends all over the globe, and I appreciate all of them… all of you. I’ve always said my favourite thing about this blog is reader submissions, and I mean that. Your comments, the photos you send and the stories you share are what make this a meaningful endeavour for me. I think of this place as a community founded by Caine and maintained by all of us, and it is still my pleasure to help keep the lights on.

Jack says hi and wants you to know that even though he’s just turned 12, he is not over the hill and that he plans to have many more adventures.

 

 

Jack’s Walk

Happy 12th Birthday Jack ©voyager, all rights reserved

Well, I’m home from Mexico, and I’m none too happy about it. We left Ajijic, Mexico, at 8 a.m. on Wednesday, February 26 and arrived home nearly 24 hours later. Our connecting flight to Houston arrived in good time, but we were delayed in Texas by bad weather in Toronto. We finally took off and managed to land in Toronto, but after landing, we sat on the tarmac for over an hour while ground crews cleared the snow. By the time we got off the plane, it was 2:30 a.m., and we’d missed our shuttle bus home.
It had been 18 degrees and sunny when we left Mexico, and it was -10 with blowing snow here, which was quite a shock to the system. Despite all the bad weather, we felt lucky to get as far as Toronto, because all outgoing flights from the airport had been cancelled. The shuttle service told us the bus was still running, though, and, finally, at 4:30 a.m., the airport bus pulled up. Janet and I both let out an excited “there it is,” as it rolled to a stop. The driver loaded all our cases, and away we went, slowly and carefully, into the storm. About 2 hours later, we finally arrived home to our snow-covered city, where Mr. V and Jack were excitedly waiting for me.
Jack has been a bit clingy since I arrived home from Mexico, and I’m alright with that in the short-term, although it would be nice to use the toilet without being watched. In any event, we didn’t venture out far over the weekend because the storm lasted until late yesterday. Today, though, it’s warmed up to 6 degrees, and it’s raining. Oh, Joy!
I did make it home in time for a significant event, though. On Saturday, February 29, my baby boy, Bubba, turned 12. It’s only the fourth real birthday he’s ever had, so we made it special. He had toast with jam and yogurt for breakfast,  then he got a new rubber pig-pig and a rather sizeable birthday cookie plus a walk around the neighbourhood. For supper, he had steak and the rest of his birthday cookie, then we played pig-pig again and to top off the day, he had ice-cream before bed. We sang the happy birthday song to him a few times and Jack was pleased with that. He likes it when we fuss over him. I got him a hat to wear, but Jack told me that he didn’t want to wear it because he felt silly, so I didn’t push the issue. I feel a bit silly in those hats, too. All in all, it was a good birthday, and even though Jack is now a senior citizen, he still has a few adventures left to share with me… and you.

Monday Mercurial: Duck, Duck, Goose!

The usual residents on any pond are mallards, who I think are underappreciated for their beauty, both male and female, just because they are common. Makes me wonder if people who live in places with colourful parrot that make us ohh and ahh see them the same way as we do with out local wildlife.

Anyway, mallards also feature in the best known German children’s song: Alle meine Entchen (all my little ducks):

It’s a 150 years old and will probably last at least another 150 years: It features animals, is easy to sing and play and describes something even city kids may see and know.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

We also got a pair of Egyptian geese at the pond. While originally coming from, you guess, Egypt, they are now pretty common around Europe. They can cause trouble in places where humans like to spread on laws they consider THEIR lawns, but are for the rest harmless.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

©Giliell, all rights reserved

©Giliell, all rights reserved

©Giliell, all rights reserved

Jack’s Walk

See you in March. Photo by Janet B.

I’m leaving for Mexico tomorrow and won’t be back until the end of the month, so after today Jack’s Walk is on vacation until March 2. I’m going to a place called Jocotepec to help a friend pack up her house. She and her husband lived there for 12 years, but he died 2 years ago and Janet moved back home. She’s sold her house there and we’re going down to finish the paperwork and pack up the last of her things. It won’t be all work, though. We have a few interesting field trips planned, including an Iguana Park, a pyramid and a mud bath! We’ll also be going to Manzanillo for a few days because I’ve never seen the Pacific Ocean and we could both use a little beach time. I’ll share the photos when we get home, but you may get the odd Postcard From Mexico while I’m away. No promises, though. I’m ready for a break.

I can promise that The Art of Book Design will be here every day as usual and I thought that Jack’s absence would be a good time to put up the next part of my Russia series, so there will be 2 or 3 posts published about our stay in Uglich. Be sure to look for those. I’ll see you all in March.