MORE CHANGES, INCLUDING DISASTER

I'll start with the simple.

I decided, at the end of my last post, to "try to get myself looking presentable." As if such a thing were possible.

But, by pre-arrangement, I am using a picture of me snapped by Genie's daughter, Holly, at Paris and Beyond. Now this is a good picture!

But there are bigger things than me. Much bigger.

One of my first discoveries, upon waking, was that Japan had experienced of a massive earthquake and tidal wave (tsunami).  I saw the pictures of the tsunami hitting village and city alike, rolling over and sweeping away everything that stood before it.

I remember a reporter picking a porcelain doll out of the detritus at the Sendai airport. There was wreckage from  all over — construction materials to cars. And I wondered. Was this doll owned by some little girl? Is she alive or dead? Did she treasure this doll? Will it ever get back to her?

Perhaps the most frightening thing for me was the ongoing story of nuclear reactor failures, and the threat those failures pose — for Japan, and the rest of us. How big is the radioactive plume? How far will it spread? What will be the consequences of Japan's electrical industry? How will this affect other nuclear installations? (I've seen a story that Germany is shutting down any pre-1980 nuclear plants for inspection; there is question of whether any of these will reopen.) And what lies ahead for children, even un-born children, who were caught in the wrong place during this nuclear disaster?

It is said the Japanese people are both stoic and resilient. They will rebuild. At the cost of a few trillion dollars, perhaps.

IN AUTUMN, A MAN'S MIND TURNS TO …

cleaning up the yard and getting ready for winter. Which I was doing this afternoon at our micro-holding. (For those of you who are not familiar, I think our property is really too small to fit the classic definition of a "small holding"; hence, it's a "micro-holding.")

When I work outside, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, comes with me. First we play a bit. Then we light a fire, into which I can toss odds and ends of stuff that need to be removed and can be burned.

Then I get down to work. And Miss Sadie waits for me to be done with the work silliness, and come to play — which is the important thing to do outside.

When I need to take a break, we play.

There was a lot of brush to clean up at the back. I didn't take a picture of it, but you can see where the leaves are. That's where the brush was.

And there was some other stuff to clean up, too. Like garbage that blows in from the back lane. (The automated garbage pickup isn't always that thorough.)

It has to be bagged and returned to the garbage, along with bits of glass and metal which uncannily pop up to the surface of the earth from time to time. And I need to do something with Miss Sadie's "leavings" (otherwise called, by some, "doggy-doo").

Then, the wood pile. It was a mess. Now we've got it organized, and partly tarped. The one challenge is that there are mice living under there, somewhere. I only know about them because Miss Sadie keeps trying to find the mice, even climbing up on top of the wood pile.

Last job, cover the rose bush with fallen tree leaves, to protect it over the winter. (This was the first year since we transplanted it to our yard that it actually bloomed.)

We had beautiful magenta roses. I hope we get them again next year.

All in an afternoon's work. Or play (if you see it from Miss Sadie's perspective).

WHAT'S A BEAR TO DO? (3)

Subtitle: "In which Bear and J work several hours in the garden, and accomplish some improvements."

Ah, yes; this IS starting to look better.

THE ANTI-MIDAS TOUCH

I've been dragging my proverbial tail around for some now. This is not fun. It is not what I signed up for. The fact that I tripped over Sadie in the middle of the night last night, and landed flat on my back, most certainly did not help the situation of either mind or body.

What made things worse recently was burning a box of papers. It was from a project which I and some other very talented people started in the late 1980s. (The Blog Fodder was one of those who helped us along the way.) It was my idea, but it resonated with a lot of others, who picked up the ball and ran with it. Then they hired me to run the non-profit operation. Bad mistake. I knew what needed to be done, and some of how to do it. But my knowledge of actually running a business could be written legibly on the back of a postage stamp. After two yeas, I removed myself from the leadership position. I continued to be a member but someone more capable took over the reins and carried on, until the organization was betrayed by a couple of "friends" -- and failed. As the nominal founder of the project, most of the organizations documents found their way back to me, though they properly should have gone to someone else. I took most of them to the provincial archives, which was happy to receive them.

Anyhow, 15 year after the Foundations demise, I finally burned the old financial records. An appropriate enough thing to do under the circumstances, I suppose.

What it did though, was remind me of my "Anti-Midas Touch." You remember the story of King Midas -- he had the power to turn anything he touched into gold. With the "Anti-Midas Touch," everything you touch turns into garbage. That was my reflection on my involvement in the Foundation. Then I thought of another case when my "Anti-Midas Touch" had been at work. And then another, And then another. And. . . . By then, my soul was like the ashes in the fire pit. I came in, laid down, pulled a blanket over me, and slept for several hours. I didn't even get up for supper.

I will not let this kill me. But some days I have to reach up in order to touch bottom.

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

(traditional Scottish prayer)

Well, that didn't work here.

I was rudely awakened from my sleep last night by a great crashing sound. By time I actually came to, it occurred to me that the sound may have happened inside our house.

An unexpected visitor, perhaps?

NO; doors were all secure.

It was just the shelving in the laundry area, literally "off the wall." A few screws loose. (But not in my head this time!)

Sadly, so very typical of the quality of workmanship we suffered through after the fire in our house about a year ago.

Fortunately, not much got spilled. Only a bit of furniture oil, and it stayed on top of the washer. There was a whole bottle of chlorine bleach, which stayed intact -- thereby saving both the new flooring we had installed and G3's sanity.

Getting the shelves back up is going to be the challenge. One extra task I desperately didn't need. Let's see -- drill, anchors, good screws, extra bar to attach to the wall for holding up the shelving. I guess I'm ready -- I guess. Maybe tomorrow. Or. . . .

MOVING EXPERIENCE

I've been doing some reading and thinking, which is moving my mind in a new direction. So for the next little while, you probably won't see me here. (I'll likely do a bit of reading and commenting, but not a lot.) I'm not running away, I just need some time to reflect and meditate out in my Celtic Grove.

If I don't show up in a week or so, May-B, "Cheerful" Jane, and CJ from Northumberland have my permission to send their respective dogs (Montel, Charlie, and Sparky) to hunt me down.

SHOPPING AND SPRING CLEANUP -- %^@[°›⁄

Well, the snow finally disappeared today, leaving behind a multitude of junk on our lawn -- bottles, cigarette buts, candy wrappers, cigarette packages, etc. Most, I think, are from the "customers" of our neighbours across the street. A far as we can tell (and by "we" I mean me and the other neighbours at this end of block), the folks across the street are dealing drugs. Aside from the garbage, we haven't really had any problem. In fact the father/grandfather/patriarch of the family and I have delightful chats we see each other on the street. Our City Councilor, however, is well aware of the situation, which may lead to some intervention on the part of the local constabulary. (Heavy on the MAY.) In the meantime, it's "Que shiraz, shiraz," as Wendy put it so delightfully.

Before I did that raking, thought, I had to pick up a few things at the grocery and some air filters for our forced air furnace. Which meant traveling to a multitude shops -- nobody has all the things you need in one place. I was gone for so long that G3 was beginning to be a bit concerned about what happened to me.

Anyhow, I got a bit of the front yard raked before my body gave out, and I lugged my "collection" to the big trash bin in the back lane. After that I came in, exhausted, and slept of about five hours (a common occurrence in many of my afternoons).

Perhaps in the next day or two I'll be able to finish raking the front lawn, and be able to turn my attention to the gardens (front and back) and my "Celtic Grove" -- my sanctuary space.

Hope spring is a joy for all of you, my mates. What are some of your favorite spring projects?