The Walkway Project

There are some good things about living alone and doing whatever you choose. I can get lost in a whim and have no one to say, “What the hell are you doing?”

I was given a bunch of concrete slabs, two feet by two feet, for a walk way in front of my house. The old ones were used in my wood shed and I never replaced them. Grass and weeds had grown into the gravel: it was wet and dewey in the morning, hard to shovel in the winter. A few weeks ago a pile of older, thick concrete slabs appeared at my neighbours. I asked if he was going to use them and he said he would give me what was left over. On Wednesday evening he brought and put down these;

This is what has been on my mind for a few days now. I know I can shuffle these around, and make something more pleasing. There are enough broken pieces and it goes too far into my driveway this way.

I had to work Friday night but I got two pieces started by my step in the morning. I sat on a stool, dug the grass and weeds out from the gravel with hand tools and added two halves to get right width.  I want to encourage the Creeping Thyme room to grow over the sharp corners. Two broken pieces helped to make the step-down a little better.

Yesterday I went to my sister’s birthday party and had a great time with the kids and family but I really wanted to work on this. The weather is perfect and I have 3 days off. One problem is that that they are very heavy, of course, so it’s hard to shuffle them around to see which way they fit together best.

When I got home I decided to make a template of them all and put it together like a puzzle. I cut out squares of paper 11 cm by 11 cm then stood out over every slab and cut out it’s shape or split. I numbered the slabs with a piece of soap and numbered the little pieces of paper. Then I got an empty pop can box and cut out one side to make the bottom template. I counted 5 slabs but the box wasn’t 55 cm long so I cut out another piece and taped it on. I went outside and realized I actually had 6 slabs permanently so I cut out another piece and added it on. I marked off 11 cm. increments and worked on placing the shapes together.

See? Now here is where another person would question my sanity and how much time was going into this. My point is; who cares?  This is what I want to do and I have the time and inclination to do it.

What’s even funnier, (well, to me) is that I’m not doing it….. I’m writing about doing it. I have other, more pressing jobs to do than this but I really want to move pieces of concrete……  just #8 and #2 for today.

I mowed my very long lawn as my lawn mower had been in repair for over a month. Now I have to rake bales of long grass before it rains and gets too heavy.

Damn, this is where that other sane person would come in real handy.

Let Them Eat Cake

‘Eat’. Damn. Here I was all ready to do a SoCS and find the prompt is ‘eat’. Nothing I wanted to talk about can be made into an ‘eat’ word. It said ‘don’t cheat’ so there’s that one taken. How about……. some neat things happened this week!

Last night I worked my last night shift for a while. I hope. We hired a new student and one of the bakers wanted to work nights, too. Best of luck to them…… last night I didn’t get the one mop until minutes before closing. They were turning off the lights and yelling at me as I ran.  NO MORE! I’m so happy. My shifts are mostly 10:00 to 3:00, my favourite shift! Sweat! (OK, that’s ‘sweet’ changed to ‘-eat’ but it doesn’t work)

But even more neat things happened this weak.(That’s definitely cheating)  Zumba started back Monday and Wednesday. It’s in a high school so we don’t do it all summer. It really makes me feel better, mentally and physically.

On Wednesday evening, about an hour before Zumba, my neighbour came and offered me the concrete slabs for my front side walk I had been eyeing that were stacked by his house. My old sidewalk had been used in my woodshed and never replaced. It was grassy and wet. Plop, plop, he put down a concrete sidewalk one by one and brought some split an broken extras.

While he was doing that a young man drove down in what I thought was an ATV. It wasn’t a  friend of my neighbours because they didn’t talk to each other. He walked toward me reaching into his pocket and I was a little worried. He brought out a ‘receipt’ which had some numbers from an old print-out adding machine with bad writing beside each number. He tried to read each one as he pointed with his finger. My lawn mower,…… I had been looking into the sun, he drove down on my lawn mower!  It was fixed!

Within one hour I had a new sidewalk and my lawn mower and went to Zumba, feelin’ good.  The next day I worked 10:00 to 3:00, decorated 4 cakes, made some cream pies and Fruitta De Bosco, left at the end of my shift, went home and mowed my lawn.

Last night, my last night for while, I decorated a cake for my sister. Her birthday is today and the whole family is going to her house. I have today, tomorrow and Monday off! Yes, I’m feeling pretty good!

I hope she doesn’t read this post today and ruin the surprise. The whole family can EAT cake!

I hope it’s OK to put a photo in SoCS…..

http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2615/

The Disgusting Media

Yesterday I wrote about an historical event that took place right where I live. Stoney Point reserve is finally being returned to its rightful owners after being swindled out of it by our government. There was a symbolic “Going Home Walk” between the divided reserve. I live in the strip of land between.

I had to work yesterday and missed it; I was hoping to see some walkers on my way back but it was over by the time I drove home. I did see some OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) at the Stoney Point gates and wondered if there had been a fight. Some of the Stoney (yes, they spell it with an ‘e’) Point descendants feel the settlement should be just with them and not be shared with Kettle Point. Pierre George was very vocal about it and I expected he would put up a fight. Dudley George was his brother. Pierre drove with Dudley as he died from a gunshot wound from an OPP officer. He still suffers with PTSD from the incident. At heart, he is a warrior.

I usually don’t bother turning on my computer at all when I’ve worked all day but I wanted to see what happened. On Facebook I read a post from my niece condemning the local newspaper for posting a terrible photo.  I went to look, still not knowing what happened, and there was a photo of Pierre George on fire, his face contorted in pain and horror. And that was the whole story. Protester, brother of slain Dudley George, accidentally set on fire during a protest.  It barely mentioned the Going Home Walk and there were no photos of that.

All the local papers picked up the photo and the story. The local station on TV showed the picture and talked about the ‘protest’. The Going Home Walk was trivialized and hardly mentioned. I wondered if it even happened or was stopped.

This morning, thankfully, some private photos of the Walk showed up on Facebook. Hwy 21 between the reserves was closed down as they walked from Kettle Point to Stoney Point. People carried signs with the photos and names of their elders who were forced off their land. They were symbolically ‘bringing them home’.   I was sorry I missed it (but glad I got to work before they closed down the highway!) There were supporters along the way. The local dog groomers gave out bottles of water. It was a great event. Until they reached Stoney.

Pierre George had a small campfire going at the entrance to the camp. As the walkers approached he threw some gasoline on the fire and accidentally set himself on fire. The photographers shot 3 photos. Those were the only photos in the media. That was the only coverage of the whole event.

I’m so disgusted with the photographers and the papers who thought it was OK to use that photo. It’s sickening and hard to get out of my mind: I can’t imagine what the George family must be feeling.  I’m heartsick over what has happened. ‘Heartsick’ is the best word for it; my heart is so heavy, it turns my stomach.

I’m going to share a some photos; happy photos.

 

 

 

How Far?

How far would you go for someone you love? How far would you want someone else to go for you? 

What do you mean by that?

Geographically: Would I fly to another country where I have to go through customs and all that crap?

Sexually: Can I still do IT? I don’t even know! How far could I go?

Legally: Would I risk going to jail for someone?

I don’t have children so that leaves out the selfless ‘I’d do anything for my kids…’ instinct. I’m single and have no romantic love. No more pets; I’ve loved and lost many and won’t do it again.

I guess I would drive as far as I can go, visit, and get home again on my day off. Well, maybe stay the night.

I would like someone who would go to ‘town’ for Indian food do the driving. It’s far and I don’t drive high.

Like my mom used to say, “Don’t expect anything and you’ll never be disappointed.” (yes, she did)

After a failed marriage and realizing how low my self esteem was; I made this move to look after myself. “I’m the love of my own life, its’ all about me!”  However, it’s been 7 or 8 years now and it’s wearing a little thin. The honeymoon is over….. I’m starting to bug myself.

I would like that “over the moon” feeling again.

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Take Me to the Moon.”

Route To Their Roots

I’m sitting in the middle of an historic event right now. Yesterday the Chippewas of Kettle and Stony Point voted to accept the $95 million dollars from the government in settlement for taking their land for 73 years. The land is finally turned back over to them.

I live In a strip of land between the divided Reserve. Not only are they divided geographically but there is also division within. At the onset of WW2, Stony Point residents were pushed into Kettle Point. Now many of their descendants feel the land should be returned to them and not include the residents of Kettle Point. There could very well be trouble when the barracks, now occupied by the descendants, are slated to be torn down.

The Band is planning on re-opening Ipperwash Park and building a cultural center on the spot where Dudley George was killed. I, for one, am excited about the future here.

Tomorrow there is going to be walk between the two reserves. There is a notice that all band members can meet at the plaza tomorrow morning and walk from Kettle Point to Stony Point. It’s called the Going Home Walk.

I just feel really good about this. I feel hope for a future here where people have more respect for First Nation culture.

Unfortunately, I am white and I have to work tomorrow. But I hope I see lots of people on my way to work tomorrow, walking to Stony Point.

Holy Crap. I can’t edit but I can add on. “I’m white and I have to work tomorrow” I could get beat up for a slur like that!  Tomorrow is Sunday. All those people walking have the day off work because it’s Sunday. I work in a grocery store so I often work Sunday. I’m sure glad I caught that and cleared it up.
Like I said, I hope I can wave to the many First Nations people who take the Going Home Walk tomorrow. I hope it blesses this land.

http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-1915/

LIfe Goes On …. and on and on….

 

Today You Will Write

Yes, today I will write and this gives me a platform. I haven’t written much lately simply because I have nothing to say. I’m not much of a talker, either, I dislike chitchat.

My life is going on boringly but bearable. My mind fluctuates between ‘why do I have to work (hard) in grocery store for minimum wage, at this age (62) and be alone?’ to ‘thank God I have a not bad part-time job and house of my own. I can do whatever the hell I want.’   That job gives me feeling of security; I can do this. In moments of anxiety I can remind myself I have a job and my bills are paid.

My lawn mower is still being fixed. He said it might be done today. It’s been gone over a month. My grass is so long its laying over. The Queen Ann’s Lace was pretty but its finishing now. Its depressing looking at the lawn and gardens so neglected. Last week was too hot to work outside anyway; I can wait until better weather. I’m so looking forward to fall and cutting my grass.

Today its raining and I’m glad. I worked last night (4:00-9:00) and I’m working again tonight so a quiet rainy day is just what I need to re-boot for another round of cleaning frenzy.

I could write about the mop problems and how I would have been done early if I didn’t have to wait for the deli girl to finish with the only mop but I think I’ve bored you enough by now. That’s my point, that’s why I haven’t written. Between working I do housework, inside and out, make food, clean up after making food, do laundry, wash my work apron, (sometimes I just sponge the icing off my pants), read blogs, watch TV.

My aging aunt recently was moved to a nursing home near us so I can visit her after work easily. I’m sure most of you know how depressing a nursing home is. Last time I went she had ‘an accident’….. I won’t go into detail but I almost threw up.

Thank God Zumba is starting back up on Monday. I need it so bad. Not just the exercise but the dancing and laughing part.

So, Prompt, thanks for reminding me that this is it. This is my life and I better be damn grateful for what I have!  As far as I know, it will just go on like this until I’m in that nursing home grossing out my nephew.

A SoC Vent.

It’s a good thing you give a prompt for this, otherwise I would be staring at my screen wondering what to write. Today the prompt is ‘temp‘ and a few things came to mind so I will stumble along my dried-up of consciousness.

The first ‘temp‘ that comes to mind is fellow blogger Laura L. who was unemployed but just got a temporary job. https://wtfaioa.wordpress.com/2015/09/11/totally-buried-lede/   Life is so often like Star Trek….. it’s the final countdown to disaster but something happens at the last second to save the day.

I lost my temper last night at work and left a note. Now I’m mad at myself for leaving a note and wishing I hadn’t. Our temporary summer hours, open until 11:00, are over now. My shift would have ended at 10:00 giving me an hour’s grace to really finish the job. Now we are closed at 9:00 and I have to be done.  My boss called me in early because we had so many special cake orders. There was a sink FULL of muffins pans and baking equipment. A muffin pan is like 12 things and they are very heavy.

I was getting perturbed that I wasn’t going to get done. Because I went in early I was entitled to a half hour break…… I took 10 minutes to wolf down a sandwich and see “who wore it best”.

We have a huge, chest-high, bin for thrown-away bread that I use to throw away the ‘bin buns’ at night. It was full so they had filled a shopping cart with more bread and left it in front of the bin. ‘They’ is two younger men that worked there in the day time then left the job for the person at night….. the old lady or the teenager. That’s when I lost my temper and wrote a note, “NO!” I was not going to attempt to maneuver that bin out the front doors and around the building….. at night!

Then I wrote, “There’s not enough time!”   At 8:50 I went for my mop and bucket and there were no mops! OMG, How could I not lose my temper!

The two young men who worked in the deli had it but weren’t using it and let me take it. I cleaned those floors in 5 minutes. Not as good as I would like but it got done and I punched out at 9:02. There were still customers in the store when I left……. bastards!

My boss has to work one night a week because the managers take turns doing the final “closing”. I’ve noticed he makes as many muffins as he can the day before so he doesn’t get left with stacks of muffin pans.  I wish I could do that.  I his defence, he stayed late yesterday, making it close to a 12 hour day, to make Snicker Bar Cakes while we worked on the special orders.

We all work damn hard!

http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/11/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-1215/

The Biker Gang

Tell us about a situation that was not funny at all while it was happening, but that you now laugh about whenever you remember it.

Many years ago I rented a house with a friend on the outskirts of a small town.  I had just been hired in the library and she was looking for work. The house was in the middle of a grape and peach orchard; I wanted to rent it, needed a roommate, and she was ready for a change.

It didn’t take long to meet a couple of young men who came over for a few beers. (That sure wouldn’t happen these days, I would never invite a stranger over to my house) We possibly had a few too many and bragged about our ‘city’ lives in Toronto and Vancouver. Cocaine was cool in those days and we sometimes got offered it for free. (Another ‘NEVER again!’)

We were respectable young women….. I worked in library and looked like it.

A few days later I heard a rumbling noise. My friend ran into the room and cried, “There’s a biker gang coming down our driveway!”

Sure enough,  a line of very tough-looking, leather-bound bikers on big, weird motorcycles were coming single file down our driveway. They drove behind the house and parked, side by side. We watched in horror; Were they going to gang rape us?  We live in an orchard; no one would hear our screams.

The ‘leader’ got off his bike and headed toward our back door. We opened it the width of one head and I stuck my face out above hers. Our eyeballs must have been popping out of our heads. We clutched the door with white knuckles in case he tried to kick it open.

“I heard you might know where to buy some cocaine” he said. (Thinking back now he probably wanted to laugh heartily at the two scared, little faces.)

“Cocaine?” we said together. “NO! …not.!… don’t……” we blithered.  We were crazed with fear, shaking our heads uncontrollably.

“OK, Thank you.”  was all he said and turned and left. They started up their bikes and left, one by one, singe file. Phew! Gang rape diverted.

 

Looking back now they were probably undercover policemen…… but maybe not….. I’ve met a lot of nice bikers in my time.

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Retrospectively Funny.”

We’re All Human

We should treat everyone the same way: no one deserves to feel that they are not worthy of kindness and respect.

http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/09/one-liner-wednesday-the-first-lesson-in-relationships/

Lighter

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “light.”  Make use of it any way you like. Have fun!

‘Lighter’ is my first thought.  I feel lighter today. It ain’t the heat, it’s the humidity.

Yesterday morning, at my computer, I opened the window and hot fog rolled in….. yuck! Not feeling well to begin with, I was having abdominal discomfort and feeling rather heavy the in the lower regions, this made a fog in my brain worse.

And I wrote a bummer post.

Today is lighter. This morning I opened windows to cool it off although I have to close them now as the heat is starting. Yesterday I ate only fruits and vegetables (Ok, I had some chips.) so I feel lighter, too.

I don’t have to work today! Yes, Saturday, Labour Day weekend. I can just imagine Grand Bend right now and the grocery store; the frenzy, the insanity…….. and I can lounge in my cool, quiet living room.  Our beach will be crazy, too.  Labour Day weekend people go nuts, like “It’s my last chance to have fun!”

Yes, I shall lounge today. Eat light. Maybe do some YouTube yoga.  In a few hours I will have to close my living room curtains to block out the light. I feel crazy myself when I hear something and peek out.

I have to be completely well tomorrow, I’m working 8:00 until noon. My boss forgot to give me tomorrow off, as I requested for my grandnephew’s birthday party, so he said I could go in early and leave at noon.  That’s great because I still have today and Monday off!

Time to close all the windows, sigh…… looking forward to fall.

http://lindaghill.com/2015/09/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-515/