Speak My Language


SoCSNobody at work speaks my language. Last time I was there I was so disappointed listening to my co-workers criticize and laugh at other people and generally talk about small, petty things.  Everything I had to say was a joke and I really hate double entendres.  Being a vegetarian and liking nature makes me a weirdo. I can feel the eyeballs rolling behind my back.

I’ve been working there for 3½ years and haven’t made any friends I can hang out with. I’m just too different from most people and I really don’t want to hang out with people who talk shit. I’d rather go for hikes in the woods than to a mall shopping. I don’t drink alcohol. I almost feel like I have to say, “….but I smoke pot…..”

Good thing my mom taught us this when we were young: “learn to enjoy your own company”.

That’s one reason why I appreciate you fellow bloggers so much; YOU SPEAK MY LANGUAGE!!!!!



Bathed in Pink

For a person who doesn’t usually like pink I’m loving it now!

First I’ll tell you why I rarely, if ever, wear pink: one of my pet peeves is grown women who act like little girls to be cute. It’s not the colour itself but what it represents. Same feeling when I see a grown woman wearing pig-tails……. god, I hate that.   I can tolerate dusty rose and fuchsia but rarely will a pink piece of clothing catch my eye.

However, these days I’m swooning in pink because I have an old crabapple that is in full bloom and I mean FULL bloom. It is completely covered in blossoms. There are other apple trees nearby that are a soft pink so my yard is a giant bouquet!

Today is cloudy but for a couple of days the sun shone on that tree and reflected pink light into the house. I walked into my living room, bathed in pink and the TV was reflecting the tree from the window; I was blown away by beauty!

The room that is right beside the tree looks out at just blossoms and everything had a pink hue. It was literally like looking through rose coloured glasses. Too bad it’s the storage/ back entrance but it sure made an ugly room beautiful.

It was so hard to go into work yesterday. Flowers all around, birds merrily chirping ….. you could almost hear angels singing! Then I had to put on that stupid uniform and go into the back of the grocery store; it feels like doing penance.

I’ve been taking photos of my crabapple and posting it on Facebook because I have to share it! Soon it will be gone…… pink petals raining down and collecting on the ground.

I’m not working today; this is a fairly easy week but next week I have four work days with some 7 hour shifts. Starting next Friday (Victoria Day Weekend) the bakery will be open until 9:00 pm. I’m going to get very grouchy next week.

Good thing I have this beautiful tree to soothe my soul.

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This taken from my bedroom window overtop the woodshed.



The Temp

After graduating high school in the late 1960’s in Toronto, jobs were easy to get. You could get a job and look around for a better job which might give you leverage to get a raise.  For a year or so I worked for the Ontario government as a temporary file clerk in any of their Toronto offices that needed extra help.

One of those jobs was at the Ministry of Transportation/ Aviation. Someone had three months maternity leave and I was filling in for her. It was good money, $3.65 an hour, way above minimum wage which was around $1.15 in those days. I remember my fancy hot-pants (with a tasteful open dress) outfit I paid a lot for; around $80 I think.

It was a gigantic long room filled with rows and rows of filing cabinets which held files of all the pilots in Ontario. My job was to get the files from the in-coming request forms and put away a stack of files that were finished being looked at.

Two more women worked at my station but I can’t remember what they did other than give me the numbers and the files. I would have kept that cushy job if I could have but whoever-she-was came back.

There were some dismal filing jobs after that. One was for the Ministry of Correctional Services.  There were stacks and stack of files that were being reduced in size to the bare bones of information. We were to keep certain forms and pages and throw out the rest. As fate would have it, I came across a file of a friend of mine who was busted in a boat, fishing and smoking marijuana. I threw out the whole file.

Another job (can’t remember what ministry) was a small room full of files that had been filed away so badly they had to get two people in to put them back in alphabetical order.

Can you see how many people were employed before the computer? The gigantic rooms of files and people is now all on computer. File clerks? I wonder if there still is such a thing.

When I was ten years old my Dad was transferred from Sarnia to a new Imperial Oil office in Don Mills (Toronto). He was one of hundreds of accountants that handled all the money of Imperial Oil. All this would be done by a hand-full of people now.

With the advances in robot technology people are becoming obsolete. They are too expensive, too needy. The whole human race may be just temporary.



I am so uncomfortable with being exposed it would be very easy to get agoraphobic. I’m already fairly reclusive: it’s the top, #1 reason why I wanted this house. It’s surrounded by woods on three sides and behind a house on the road so it’s hidden from view. It’s very humble, built over and around a trailer. Some people who live around here still call it The Trailer but I never saw the original so it’s a house to me.

Even though you can’t see it from the road,  I still have to close all my curtains at dusk because someone might be able to see in. Even my bathroom window which looks into the woods has to be covered at night. Just in case someone is standing out in my yard, in the rain, waiting for me to turn on my bathroom light hoping to catch a glimpse of me.

I’m always amazed when I drive by people’s open curtains at night exposing them to being looked at by people like me. How can they stand it? Someone might see them walking through their living room!

It’s the main reason I was so happy to stop working on cash and stay in the bakery. On cash you are so exposed. Everyone is looking at you, staring even. (that’s supposed to make you go faster). When you don’t have a line-up, staring at you, you have to go out in front of your cash further exposing yourself to shoppers. It’s hell, hell I tell you! The bakery is the best place to hide….. you can see them coming.

I have fought against this tendency. I’ve even done public speaking and conquered that fear. I can walk around in public with ease. At this age, 64, I’m invisible anyway.

Last night I was brave. I walked into a party all by myself and looked around for the hosts. Everyone was staring at me (no, they weren’t) until I spotted them, said hello, and found a seat. Phew! And I stayed for almost an hour! (pat myself on the back)

I could get crazier but I expose myself to people regularly. It may, however, become a problem when I retire. I’ll be the crazy old lady in the trailer.


The Rustic Lifestyle

There was something my ex said, on his visit here recently, that stuck in my head. He lamented, “I’m all alone because this lifestyle is so hard…. you know how hard it is.”

Yes, I sure do know. It wasn’t just all the physical labour that went into beekeeping and harvesting honey, it was the ‘rustic’ home that was so much damn work. No flushing toilet, for instance. We were young and naïve when we bought the composting toilet. We lived on a flood plain so our septic system would not drain twice a year. At that time it was the state-of-the-art composting toilet…. the water-saving hope of the future.  Just take out a tray of compost once a month!  Sure; keeping it from not stinking was a chore.   A few years later, digging out the toilet and burying shit was a chore every few months.

We never had a shower. We put in a bathtub and had a sauna. The shower was supposed to go by the sauna but it was never put in. I did a lot of hot, sweaty work over the years and never had a shower, I would wash in a luke-warm shallow bath. When visited here he asked to take a shower because he still doesn’t have one. Now the sauna is used for honey storage. “It’s so hard to clean up there.”

We only had a wood-stove for heating. It was so cold in the morning and would take hours to warm the place. I wore layers of clothing and shoes all winter. Whenever you went out, you came home to a cold house.

The renovations just stopped at some point when other interests took hold. We got as far as the sub-flooring but never covered the plywood so keeping it clean-looking was really hard. It looked like hell. I often said ‘let me at least paint it’ but no, he would do it in the fall….. in the spring….. in the fall…… in the spring…… year after year.

One of those interests was caving so he regularly drove down to West Virginia, Tennessee and Alabama. I joined him for about 10 years because it was only place I could have fun, be with people and go on vacations. But the trips were exhausting and we would come home with muddy cave and camping gear and dirty camp dishes. After 10 years my vacation was to stay home when he went caving, try to clean my house and get at least one day off to rest.

At that time my mother, who had multiple sclerosis, lived four hours away from me and always had a list of things she needed me to do. Because I didn’t have a job or kids she felt I had lots of time off.

I also got caught up in volunteering my time gardening and they became more and more demanding thinking I didn’t have to work. Meanwhile, with our own farming business and no kids, I worked 7 days a week. There were no fun times. Weekends were just more work as we each did separate Farmer’s Market on Saturdays and ‘volunteer’ work Sundays.

That’s the ‘lifestyle’ he was talking about, its was very hard. But it isn’t why I left.

That’s what I keep thinking about after he said he was alone because it was too hard for any woman. I will bet anything that is the story when he’s talking about why his wife left…… that the lifestyle was just too hard.

Not that he was abusive. Not that he yelled and called me names every day. That he was so negative and angry I lived in ‘fight or flight’ mode for years. That he finally threw me out of my own home because I couldn’t work hard enough. I was “a parasite”. I was worthless, nobody liked me…… on and on until he dropped me off with suitcases on my sisters doorstep and drove away.

Now I can just imagine him talking to some other woman the way he used to; so soft-spoken and ‘enlightened’.  “It was just too hard a lifestyle and she couldn’t handle it.”

Well, let him say it. Let him save face for some woman he’s trying to impress or make her feel sorry for him. I know the truth and I don’t have to endure that ‘lifestyle’ any longer.


In My Yard

I just had four glorious days off and didn’t get nearly as much done as I wanted to. In the morning I imagine all the things I’m going to do in my yard but then burn out too soon.

It started out too hot this week, that’s how nice its been. I had to wear long sleeves as I have no sunscreen; went out twice and forgot it twice. The next days were perfect for working; I moved some things, pruned some things, weeded some things…. anything to just be outside.

I have a very big yard, it’s the size of two or three regular city back yards. I’ve been working on making different areas that you walk into and around. My imagination, however, is way beyond what I can do once I actually start digging. I just don’t have the stamina to work like I did when I was younger. That should come as no surprise but it sure is disappointing. Since I started this job 3½ ago, the grass has been taking over some of my past work and digging out sod is damn hard!

I was going to start spring cleaning this week, too, but didn’t.  I did the usual daily maintenance but just enough to get out into the yard. Then I’m only good for a few hours and its nappy time. Oh man, that’s a good day!

Yesterday I was sitting on my garden bench pruning thyme when I saw a huge tick running across my sleeve towards my wrist. So gross! I flicked it off and pruned a bit more but couldn’t stand it. I had to run inside, totally strip, and check out my back with a hand mirror. I hadn’t been in the woods or tall grass so be vigilant!

Well, it’s cool and rainy today so that makes it a little easier to drag myself into that fake world of fluorescent lights, music, announcements, noise, customers, while wearing very uncomfortable clothing…. and that damn hat. Torture!

Next week I have the same four days off. I’m going to get so much done…….


Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “yard.”


Courage to Love

This is a great inspirational post from ‘theywalkthenight’. I started to write a post on this subject but can’t put my thoughts down coherently today. Luckily it’s one-liner Wednesday and this says it all very succinctly. (With a little fiddling and a few commas you could make it one line)




I Put a Spell on You

“I put a spell on you because you’re MINE. You better stop the things yur doin’, Look out! I aint’ lyin'”

One of my all time favourite songs. How many people have done that song? It’s raw and powerful…. you feel the passion. I love to sing it, too.

Written by Screaming Jay Hopkins, beautifully sung by Nina Simone, later brought to my generation through Creedence Clearwater Revival and recently by Annie Lennox.  That’s what kind of singer you have to be. No cutesy Taylor Swift or Adrianna Grande could pull this off.

My ex husband visited me this week. It was nice and polite and a great reminder of how well I’m doing now. At one time I sang this song to him in my head but now it’s long past that. He didn’t change his evil ways and we separated.

I worked four days this week and he visited me on my day off so I’m worn down.  I have today off to re-couperate, re-group and reflect. After all, it’s still Mercury in retrograde.

I think I’ll go look back a few of my favourite versions. This is my stream of consciousness.



Yeah, I ain’t gonna take no more of your putting me down. Ain’t gonna take no more of your messing around.  But good luck, honey, you’re no longer mine.


Cranky Mood

The Saturday Stream of Consciousness’ prompt is “moo” and the Daily Post Prompt is ‘cranky’. Talk about handing me that on a silver platter; I’m already in a cranky mood.

It’s Easter Long Weekend and I have to go in to work this afternoon and evening. Right now it’s cloudy and foggy but this afternoon its going to be sunny and 24 degrees. (75 F) I’m going to put on those horrible clothes, go to the back of the store and deal with the hoards that will march by today, ransacking the bakery, demanding the perfect food.

The worst are the ladies over 50 with lists. A look of panic on their face as they approach me; “Do you have ________?”   “Oh, Thank God! You’ve saved my life!” 

Worse if you don’t have the thing they want, “OH NO! What am I going to DO?”

I’m expecting the phone to ring anytime now to ask me to come in early. I’ll have a ton of work and a ton of dishes and I’ll be lucky to get out at 7:00. Grrr.

(Happy thought; next Easter I won’t be there!)


My toolbar is on the side. I hate that! There it is, now, at the side of my left eye bugging the shit out of me. I don’t know how it happened and I forget how to get it back to the bottom…… where it belongs!!!!

Luckily, I arranged to have tomorrow off weeks ago so I can go to my niece’s in Kincardine. All the kids will be there, big and small, and I’m really looking forward to it.

So my mood is merely cranky. If I was working all weekend and missing my family, my mood would be much worse.


I have find out how to move that damn toolbar back now.