Updating, new place, new times

 Hello again.  I'm fine, no longer living at the Indian land condo.  I've done well with real estate in the last few years and it was a good experience.  Some luck, prayers, and all during a pandemic we bought and sold, 2 places sold, one beautiful condo purchase.  It is nice when a person doesn't have to worry about money...but I'll not feel secure ever in that regard lol!  It's like even if I was a billionaire I would say "Well, I could run out of funds, you know that space program took a big chunk."  

Actually, being busy with packing, storage, moving etc last couple of years has taken my mind off the pandemic, the drought, the forest fires, and now the floods and food shortages, gas rationing in BC.  I  follow the news and have several relatives and friends involved near disaster areas presently.  I can't visit anyone near the coast of B.C. right now, from the interior.  It's a state of emergency in the province.

I'm well, quite happy indeed, and glad to be back in the city!  I was born in this town, thought I'd move out, left for 7 years, and now I appreciate being back right in city center.  The deaths made me leave, escape to the solace of country living to recuperate...my sister, my cousins, my estranged husband, my lover...all gone one after another and I couldn't deal with everything, associated it all with the city.

That's all changed.  Here I am, wiser in some ways.  I learned you can't always make new friends when they are countrified and I was raised in the city.  It's not class structure, it's not about values...I don't know what it is.  You can't turn people into something they are not, and vise versa.  It's all quite enlightening.

Another thing...my imagination has been constricted during the pandemic and the busy times.  I want to be inspired, to have my imagination back.  Inspire me, someone, in the right ways!! I'm losing my imagination and becoming too realistic.  I know what I don't like, which I highlighted in my Twitter pinned tweet.  Alcoholism, drugs, and people who abuse life I have little or no tolerance.  Added in that mix...men with obvious Freudian psychological problems. 

If I wanted to be with someone young enough to be my son, what does that say, in Greek mythology?  If a man wants to be with someone young enough to be his daughter or granddaughter, what does that say about his mental maturity?  Maybe 100 years ago it was okay, but we're supposed to have evolved.  Many actions which were acceptable in past centuries are seen as appalling now, and from those who have been abused as children by adults, I say, please men in 21st Century, act responsibly.  Thank you.

Happy winter!

Moving on, it's time.

 I've not written many blog entries this year.  Some years are like that...but I'm glad the Google blogger is still available.  I remember when blogs were the thing to do. I recall back in 2012 reading a woman's daily posts from Sandpoint, Idaho...and I didn't even know her personally.  I wrote a reply to her and told her I enjoyed reading about her idyllic hobby rancher's life there with her husband.  They had horses, dogs, and since I had visited Sandpoint many years ago, we had something in common.  We were married to our husbands the same year, 1974.  I was 18 and she was 2 years older...but there the similarities ended.  Whereas she continued on her blissful married rural path, which I aspired to when I was a teen, I ended up back in the city and estranged from my husband, but enjoying the nightlife for awhile...perhaps too much.  Too much drinking and that's not what I had set out to do.

I've not had alcohol in 32 years and I don't miss it at all.  It's a good life without it, more like a child's enjoyment of good food and beverages, without booze mixed in.  It's weird to me to know alcohol is a toxin, not meant for our bodies yet the alcohol industry is huge and of mythic proportions...and it is all a myth.  Alcohol is a poison.  That's how I will lead into the next paragraph of white man and the North American Indians, because white man taught the Indians to drink and downfall, then the white man took the Indian little children and put them in residential schools, because the parents of these children were addicted to booze, many of them.  They should have given schools on Indian land to these children, the least white man could do...but no.

Now the residential schools are in the news all over the world because nearby where I live, in a city of Kamloops maybe 100 miles away ( my cousins live there currently and coincidentally they are teachers, retired - modern public school) the unmarked graves of 215 children were recently discovered behind the former residential school dating back to 1929. It's so sad.  Beautiful, gentle little Indian kids who were free and playing on their homeland, dragged away in the night...and dying one by one, diseases, malnutrition from unaccustomed foods.  Maybe some were killed intentionally.  It's just all too sad.

Coincidentally, I had already been planning to move from the resort here on Indian Band land where I've lived for 7 years.  I've been going to Kelowna, spending 3 or 4 nights per week there with my mother every week since November when we bought the condo in a 55+ community.  It's a beautiful setting and although the pandemic put a damper on things many residents say, almost apologetically, to us, we don't find it dull.  We met many new people, the buffet is back open on Sundays now, social distanced and I've discovered something about myself....

I'm reading J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography, at my Mom's and my 3rd floor vaulted ceiling condo, at sunset, in the sunroom, each evening after dinner, in Kelowna.  I loved the Lord of the Rings series of books and movies.  I don't feel the author is totally aware of Tolkien's nuanced brilliance in subtle ways.  The author isn't kind in some ways I feel, although the history seems accurate.  Tolkien valued his family very much.  It wasn't a plain life, as the author seems to suggest, lived out in the imagination of the famous books.  Tolkien's was a secure, loving and kind life, with a wife and children.  He loved the countryside of his youth, and disliked people imposing on nature's beauty.  He lived through the combat of WW1, and lost friends in the war.

I don't want to be alone anymore.  The pandemic has brought out feelings of loneliness I didn't know existed within me.  I want to be with someone, or with people, like I was years ago all the time.  I'm through with this self imposed solitary life which I needed for awhile after the deaths.  I don't need it anymore.  I'm tired of going back and forth to Kelowna and living out of a suitcase since November, as my age is a factor now.  I just get tired, especially after the melanoma and during the pandemic.  So it's back to the city where I can be close to Mom in her final years, and I'm glad.

I wrote down the many pros and cons of moving, as I like written reasons in front of me.  The pros of moving outweighed the cons.  And now there's the residential school news every day.  Let me tell you something from my personal experience living on Indian Land.  White man here still doesn't respect the Indians.  If they did, whitie would try harder to include Indians in financial decisions regarding upgrading the resort. Our water plant needs upgrading, same with our septic.  The condos need painting, from strata funds.  We just don't have the leadership from white strata council and they are not quite respectful about the land we're on.  We are privileged to live here.  Instead, white man thinks they are doing the Indian band a favor by having the resort here.  It's too messed up, presently, and I don't see things progressing on this land.

Tomorrow my realtor is taking inside photos of my resort condo and I'm listing at the end of August.  I want pics now as the place is staged, and after pics I can start gradually sorting and boxing my stuff.  I have pink peonies in a vase near my laptop.  The fragrance is subtle and lovely as I type.  They grew in my garden out back.  I have dark pink roses in a vase on my fireplace mantle, and a  crystal vase of small coral pink roses in my bedroom, where the window view is the field with wild pink rosebushes in bloom.

I always sought and found beauty in my life.  I want a beautiful life.  And now more than ever, I want to share my life with those people, or someone, who wants the same things as I do.  Love, always.

Lu

Happy 2021! Finding the way.

 Words.  I watched a sermon on tv today...usually I record Joel Osteen, Texan preacher/philosopher and regardless of others' religious beliefs, I find him & his wife to be most helpful.  You can't form an opinion on the Bible unless you've read it and studied it imo.  I don't know the Bible, maybe less than 10%. Some stories in there are historical and most interesting.

You can't get into a discussion about religion easily as people have strong opinions and become emotionally charged.  I think religious talk should be calm, peaceful, and harmonious for  good exchanges.

Words are the rudder that steers the ship was the message today.  Your tongue is the rudder. Your words and declarations are what you become when you speak and the voiced thoughts are given life...especially if they are written or recorded in some way.  You can't take them back...they are out in the world forever.

This is the problem with relationships I've found.  When someone voices words against me, the situation is changed and sometime damage is irreparable.  I've said the wrong things, too, I must admit, but I've moved on. I didn't ever say harsh words to my father.  I totally respected him and understood his sensitivity.  I don't recall he said any harsh words to me.  He was strong, and he avoided conflict with us, though he and my mother had some battle royales...both Aries and butting heads!  I love them both.

I lost my father to colon cancer 28 years today.  I remember leaning back in my chair at night in his room at the hospital.  I sat close to the window and snow fell outside, almost a blizzard...a fading bouquet of red roses on the windowsill beside me.  I held his hand as he took his last breaths.  Breath was faint...and then nothing. It seems not so long ago.

Losing my father was very difficult.  I wasn't assertive in those days...more the role player of the studious honour student...the brainiac with little practical use for my learned experiences, the one who easily agreed with others to keep peace.  He couldn't be with us in person to help me with family conversations.  Many many years later I learned to stand up for myself and use my life experience in a practical way.

So here I am...animal rights activist of many years, human rights supporter, pres or vice pres of our strata council for 20 years where I lived...still when Dad was alive I was president.  I kept getting re-elected...people trusted me and I'm proud of that.  I'm not on council now where I live...by choice.

Dad is happy how things turned out this year with Mom & me...I think he helped from his realm in eternity.  I fought with relatives for her rights. She loves the condo we bought and she moved to in November.  I couldn't put her in a seniors' home during the pandemic.  Those homes are filled with covid.  I really asserted myself, changed relationships, proved I could protect Mom.  I learned a lot...but I'll be careful what I say here.  Love is the answer.

Happy New Year and stay healthy!