Update On The Monster, Killer, Horror Bolt and Lock

Update: I know you have all been anxiously waiting to hear the status of the monster, killer, horror bolt and lock. The points on the bolt have now been filed to razor blade sharpness. Instead of cutting like a knife, they now slice like a razor. *sigh* There are seven other points on the bolt, and they have all been filed down to the precision of a surgical instrument. I know, I know, someone meant well, but what is that saying --- the road to h*ll is paved with good intentions. Oh, yes, I should know that by now... Oh, goodness, yes...

Unfortunately I don't have very big hands. My pinky ring is a size 2-1/2 -- believe it or not -- so when I slide the bolt, my hand gets sliced. The bolt sticks, and it's almost impossible to open it without forcing it. It's even more difficult to close it once it's open. One of the residents in our building -- of the male persuasion -- is putting forward a motion to the council to have the bolt removed. It seems I am not the only one whose hand has been sliced. After the eighth time it happened, I thought perhaps I should complain bring it to someone's attention.

I don't want to sound sexist, but some things do fall under the bailiwick of male expertise, and this bolt and lock is definitely a guy thing. I hope the women on the council will let the men deal with it, once and for all. Either that, or hire Mag Ruffman the "Tool Girl". She would fix it. It's a garbage shed, folks... There is nothing of value in there. If anyone wants my old, used coffee grounds, egg shells and Kleenex, they're welcome to them. Bottles, metal, newspapers and cardboard items are placed in the blue recycling bins -- unlocked -- so what is the point in locking up unrecyclable garbage?

Sometimes I just don't know...

Yes, I Can Can...!

Many thanks, everyone, for your kind and thoughtful comments on my previous post. You have no idea how much I appreciated them. I was feeling rather down and extremely confused. However, after pondering the matter and giving it considerable thought, I have decided to run off to Tuktoyaktuk and open a saloon called "Jo's Place". It will be a fabulous place of ill repute, and everyone will be welcome there. We will have music, dancing, and lots of libations. If we wish, we can be drunk and disorderly and have a wonderful time. I'm tired of my boring-little-life anyway. I don't drink, except very occasionally on social occasions, but I think perhaps it's time I took up the sport. In my refrigerator I have a bottle of gin that has been there for a couple of years. I think it's sufficiently chilled by now, don't you? If I am going to be tagged as a wicked, wicked woman, I might as well have some fun while I'm at it. I mean, really, how wicked can one be, sitting in a big cozy chair, wearing pink fuzzy slippers, drinking cocoa and watching the Home and Garden Television channel every night?

I mean -- really!

The Ruined Maid

“O ‘Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?
And whence such fair garments, such proseperity”--
“O didn’t you know I’d been ruined?” said she.

--”You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,
Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;
And now you’ve gay bracelets and bright feathers three!”
“Yes, that’s how we dress when we’re ruined.” said she.

--”At home in the barton you said ‘thee’ and ‘thou,’
And ‘thik oon,’ and ‘theas oon,’ and ‘t’other’; but now
Your talking quite fits ‘ee for high company!”--
“Some polish is gained with one’s ruin,” said she.

--”Your hands were like paws then, your face blue and bleak
But now I’m bewitched by your delicate cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any lady!”--
“We never do work when we’re ruined,” said she.

--”You used to call home-life a hag ridden dream,
And you’d sigh, and you’d sock; but at present you seem
To know not the megrims or melancholoy!”--
“True, One’s pretty lively when ruined,” said she.

-- “I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!”--
“My dear- a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain’t ruined,” said she.

... Thomas Hardy

Welcome to Jo's Place. Be as bawdy and as wicked as you like. The only house rule is to kick up your heels and have fun!

Why Can't People Leave Well Enough Alone!?

I believe that we all come into this world the same way -- with innocence. We may be genetically predisposed to certain traits, but most of the things that form us are things that happen to us along the way. Most of us are decent people. I was born in a small town on Vancouver Island, and I was raised in a very conventional way by conventional parents. We were very middle class, and we did not have a lot of money. As a child, I used to imagine how my life would be when I grew up. I supposed that it might not turn out quite as I had imagined, but I never would have believed it would turn out the way it has.

Without going into great, lengthy details, it would appear that I am now having to go to battle *sigh* in order to have a continuing relationship with my two beautiful grandchildren, whom I love dearly, and who love me. Why do some people have to be so consumed with jealousy and pettiness and resentment!?

Somehow, in my heart I am still this little pudding-faced girl, waiting for my life to happen. It certainly was not supposed to work out this way. I am going to go away for the next few days to try to sort things out in my mind.

Life's Embarrassing Moments

Today at lunchtime we were having a conversation about the most embarrassing things that have ever happened to us. With women, this usually involves high heel shoes. One of my co-workers told us a story of how, on her first day of college she was wearing a miniskirt and a pair of high heel boots, thinking she looked really "hot". As she sauntered up the staircase, she tripped and fell just as she reached the top step, and there she lay, sprawled for the whole world to see. I can relate. For my high school graduation, the principal of our school announced that the girls were to wear white dresses only. My mother made me a beautiful white brocade dress, ballerina length with a boat neckline. I felt like Cinderella in that dress. My mother loaned me a pair of her white shoes to wear with it. When the dancing started, my date asked me to dance, and as I walked to the dance floor, the heel broke off my shoe. Time stood still and I was mortified. But I took off my shoes and danced anyway, and everyone else followed suit, and kicked off their shoes as well. Somehow I managed to save the turn the moment around.

Several years ago a friend and I went to see Neil Diamond. Before the concert, we decided to go to the Four Seasons Hotel for a light supper. They had an informal restaurant there, overlooking a plaza. We chose one of the banquet tables next to the window and had a bite to eat. As we got up to leave, my friend walked ahead of me to pay the bill, and as I walked past the table next to ours, I saw Neil Diamond sitting there having his dinner as well. As I got past his table, I heard a voice saying, "Excuse me ... excuse me ... you have something on your shoe. Let me help you..." And then Neil Diamond leaned down and removed a white linen Four Seasons Hotel napkin that I had been dragging on the heel of my shoe.

As we got to the door, my friend said, "Was that who I thought it was!?" and I said, "Oh, lord-luv-a-duck... yessss....."

The only good thing about life's embarrassing moments is that we all have them -- some of us more than others.

Here's one of my favorite Neil Diamond songs.

Anonymous...?

I did a post not long ago about various blogs where the blog owners had chosen to approve comments before they were posted. It seemed to me that more and more people were going in that direction, and I wondered why. None of us have blogs that are particular offensive, or even controversial. I stay away from blogs that are offensive, and I try to keep mine as non-offensive as possible. As I mention in my profile, I am not a writer. I am just a regular person who likes to share my thoughts, and to read about other folks' thoughts, lives, likes, dislikes, ideas, opinion, talents, hobbies, etcetera, etcetera... There is nothing really earthshaking going on here on my blog. I am always touched by how some people share really personal and private aspects of their lives. And when people post comments on my blog and share personal and private aspects of their lives with me, I accept that as a compliment -- and believe me, it really is.

Unfortunately, with any public forum, we open ourselves up for attack. I am always happy when people disagree with my ideas. I love a good debate; it's fun and refreshing. As I have stated in the comment space on my blog, "...don't be afraid to speak your mind, as long as it is not a personal attack. It's all in good fun..."

Occasionally I have various people on my blog who feel it is necessary to attack me personally, no matter what my post is about. My all-time favorite -- "Anonymous said... Blah, blah, blah...........has your chest exploded yet? You sure do know how to puff yourself up, don't you? "

Oh goodness... do I give that impression?

Unfortunately, I have removed the "anonymous" option in the comments box, however, I have not yet gone to enabling comment moderation. I feel rather sad for people who have to post angry comments anonymously. Their comments say more about themselves than they do about me. Anger and bitterness only poison the person who is carrying those feelings. It is really not me they feel anger and bitterness towards, but themselves. And it shows. It shows.

A very dear friend of mine said, "People who know you love you. Your self image should not be tainted by what someone else thinks of you - no matter who that person is....."

I have no ill-feelings towards any of my "Anonymous" commenters except to say I feel very sad that they find it necessary to be abusive. Life is too short for that nonsense. Remember, in life you can choose to be whatever you want to be. And if you want to be filled with anger, that's your choice. But please take it somewhere else.

Rule By Committee ... Arrggghhh

Q: How many women does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Eight. One to turn the bulb, one for support, one to bake some cookies, and five to relate to the experience.

Why is it that when a group of women get together, they start to have a pack mentality? Oh, come on now, I'm a woman and I know. What is a group of women called? A gaggle? A flock?

... A coven?

*sigh*

We have a garbage shed that has a bolt and lock on it -- don't ask me why, it's just a garbage shed -- and whenever I slide the bolt closed I manage to slice my finger open on a sharp piece of metal. Oh, trust me, I don't do it on purpose. It's quite painful, and I usually end up bleeding all over my clothing. This has been going on since last summer and I mentioned it to one of the council members. Nothing was done. I have lived here for 11 years -- this month -- and I have never seen anything as ridiculous as a lock on a garbage shed. They can't seem to prevent people from breaking in through the parking garage because it's a free and easy access, but they put a lock on the garbage shed. On Friday morning I cut my finger again -- very badly -- trying to close the bolt. I e-mailed my friend on the council, and a conversation ensued.

Me: "Hi, Mary, that #&!$*^! lock sliced my finger open again. That's about the 8th time now. I can't understand why this isn't happening to anyone else, but of course it seems to be only me. I'm not going to struggle with the lock anymore until it's fixed."

Mary: "Hi Jo, I am recovering from a very bad bout of pain at the moment, so I will forward this to Molly, the president of the council. she can let the appropriate authorities know. I don't think anyone else has reported it doing this as far as I know. I'm sorry to hear it is so aggravating and causing you injuries. I find I have to put my garbage down, handle the lock with two hands and then throw out the garbage and then close the lock."

(Copies of the e-mail went to Martha, Marion, Margaret and Melania, all of whom are on the council.)

Me: "Hi, Mary, sorry to hear you are not feeling well. Please let me know if there is anything I can do."

Melania: "Jo, I'm not very good with my hands at all but I have found a way that works really well for me. I thought I'd share it with you, giving you all the details so nobody gets hurt anymore. I insert the key in the padlock and leave it there during the whole operation. I twist the key to open the padlock, slide the lock, open the door, throw the garbage, close the door, relock the padlock and only then remove the key."

Me: "Melania, thank you! I'll try that."

Molly: "Hi Jo, could you please contact me at 604-xxx-0000. Since there hasn't been other complaints I think it is best you and I go have a look and you can show me the problem spot."

Mary: "Molly, Jo did complain to me personally before, via email. I went down with her and looked at the bolt and she showed me where it was a problem. I suggested at that time that how she might open in more safely. However, I guess it's still a problem and now it is definitely time to get any edges filed."

(Don't you just love that word "complain"? I'm bleeding all over my brand-new white blouse because the sharp metal edge on the bolt has sliced my finger open -- again -- but I shouldn't complain...)

Martha: "Hi, everyone, I went out tonight and applied WD-40 to the bolt and lock. I also squirted graphite into the lock to hopefully help it lock easier. I tried covering the offending sharp pieces with electrical tape but the tape didn't like the WD-40. Perhaps some duct tape would provide coverage and would stick better until such time as we can get the metal filed? I don't have any but if someone does and wants to leave it by my door I can try again."

Me: "Martha, thank you! Perhaps even oiling it a bit so it slides more easily might help. I find I have to really jam the bolt back into place, and I slice my finger almost every time. It just heals, and ... there we go again."

Molly: "I didn't hear from Jo last night, as I expected to hear from her. The WD 40 is good, that is what I used when the lock was all rusted earlier this year. Marion and Martha, thank you for being willing to file, that saves the strata a handyman bill which we don't need now. I looked at the lock and still have a problem seeing how the cuts happen, and what needs to be filed. I was hoping Jo would have showed me."

Me: "Sorry, Molly, after Mary sent you the e-mail about having talked to me last summer, I didn't think I needed to contact you. It is turning into a huge deal, so please ignore my request to have it fixed. My apologies for having caused so much trouble...!"

Oh, lord-luv-a-duck ... a man would have just gone out and fixed it. Women do everything by committee, and they can't seem to do anything without getting personalities involved. Sorry, women, but you know this is true. The next time I slice open my finger, I'm sending the council my #&!$*^! dry-cleaning bill.

Sin And Redemption

The Cherry Thieves
Fritz Zuber-Bühler

My mother always used to say that each of us is born with a little larceny in us. I believe that's true. I'm certainly not perfect, that's for sure -- far from it, in fact. But I think most of us try to live responsible lives, and try not to hurt other people. Often, however, there are extenuating circumstances that can sometimes bring out the worst in people -- but can also bring out the best in people. Each of us has a little of both.

I want to share with you something wonderful that happened at work today. One of my co-workers was called to the front reception area; she was told there was someone who wanted to see her. When she got to the front area, there was a very nice, well-dressed gentleman who wanted to speak to her. My co-worker and the gentleman were deep in conversation for a few minutes. When she came back to her desk, my co-worker had a strange look on her face, and she was very quiet. A few moments later she sent out the following e-mail:

"Mr. "X" came to our clinic this morning asking if he could make a contribution to our “coffee fund”. I didn’t quite understand, as he is not an employee. He told me that about 10 years ago when he would roam the hospital grounds, he stole money from our coffee fund -- about $20.00 -- and was giving us $40.00 today, as he is now a recovered drug addict (10 years). I accepted $20.00 and congratulated him on his recovery and honesty."

One of the reasons I have always loved the stories of Somerset Maugham is because he understood the human condition, and his stories were always about human frailties and redemption. There is no black and white in life, but only varying shades of grey.

'Mr. X" could be a character out of one of Somerset Maugham's books, and everyone in our office wishes him well and Godspeed on his journey to redemption.

And now I am off to respond to all your comments on my previous post. What an interesting bunch of people you are...!

Do Spiders Have Souls?

In my most recent post I stated that I don't believe in a soul. I would like to expand on that a bit by saying I would like to believe in the concept of a soul, I just have not had any proof yet that a soul does indeed exist. The very fact of life itself is a miracle, and one that most of us really don't understand. I respect life, and if I see a spider in my bathtub or a fly on my living room wall, I don't swat them dead. I prefer instead to catch them on a piece of paper and put them outside. The very fact that they are living creatures makes them unique, perhaps in all the universe. The same chemical reaction in the primordial soup that created life created their lives as well as our own.

Again, this is my opinion only, based on my own beliefs. Please don't lambast me and tell me to do research first. I am not a scientist, nor am I a university-educated intellectual, I am just a person who thinks about these things, and I am probably as well as informed, or uninformed, as most of the rest of us on this particular topic.

However...

If a life form has life, does it also have a soul, or is that unique to the human race only? And if so ... why?

What is a soul? If we have souls, when were our souls created? Before we were born? When we were born? Were our souls created at the very beginning of time, when the universe was born? If our souls are timeless, and we pass on into eternity, why do our souls not remember the eternity we dwelled in before we were born?

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

... Shakespeare, The Tempest

I would love to believe in a soul. I would like to think that the essence of my mother and my father still lives on, perhaps in Heaven, perhaps in some other dimension. I miss them every day. When my mother was alive, I used to telephone her regularly and we would chat for a few minutes. One day recently I called her number -- don't ask me why -- and the phone rang at the other end. A woman picked it up, "Hello?" She sounded just like my mother, and for a moment I was suspended in time, like in the Twilight Zone. It felt as if my soul were connecting with my mother's, and I let the moment last as long as possible before I replied, "Oh, I'm sorry, I have the wrong number". In reality, I knew it was just someone who had been re-assigned my mother's telephone number.

I often wonder, do the spiders in the bathtub and the flies on the wall have souls? They are life forms, and closer to us in chemical makeup than we realize.

Naïve thoughts, perhaps, but something to think about nevertheless...

The Madness Of King George

The Rake in Bedlam
William Hogarth
1735

Let me say at the outset, I am probably going to be lambasted for doing this post. However, it is something I feel rather strongly about, and reading someone's blog today brought it to mind for me. I do not believe in a soul. I believe a soul is the invention of ancient people who did not understand the connection between the mind and body. Having said that, I do not profess to be an authority on the subject, nor do I have any training. It is merely my humble opinion, based on information I have read and seen.

I have been reading quite a few blogs lately where the blog owners or someone in their families are suffering from "mental illness". I don't believe in mental illness. I don't think it is mental, but very physical. It is often hereditary or familial, which means it has a genetic component to it -- which means it is physical. Genes are not spiritual, but a real physical part of our bodies.

So many people are made to feel guilty or stigmatized about having that particular type of illness. Should a person feel guilty about being born with blue eyes? Or dark hair? Or big feet? These things are passed down from generation to generation. All of the genetic material we bear are time capsules from our ancestors, and that includes any genetic illnesses we may inherit.

Everyone has heard of Mad King George. There was a movie made about him called "The Madness of King George" starring the wonderful Nigel Hawthorne, for which he was nominated for an Oscar. From the description of Mad King George's symptoms, it was discovered he had porphyria. The acute, or hepatic, porphyrias primarily affect the nervous system, resulting in abdominal pain, vomiting, acute neuropathy, seizures and mental disturbances, including hallucinations, depression, anxiety and paranoia. Cardiac arrhythmias and tachycardia (fast heart rate) may develop as the autonomic nervous system is affected. Pain can be severe and can, in some cases, be both acute and chronic in nature. Constipation is frequently present, as the nervous system of the gut is affected, but diarrhea can also occur. In some forms of porphyria, accumulated heme precursors excreted in the urine may cause various changes in color, after exposure to sunlight, to a dark reddish or dark brown color. Even a purple hue or red urine may be seen. Heme precursors may also accumulate in the teeth and fingernails, giving them a reddish appearance.

It sounds physical to me, wouldn't you say?

Mad King George was not mad, or crazy, or mentally ill at all. He did not have an illness in his soul, he was physically sick.

I think if we believe the mind or the soul to be separate entities from the body, we will continue to believe these things will become diseased. But my belief is that it is not these things that become diseased when "mental" illness occurs, it is simply the physical body. This is the 21st Century, and people should not suffer needlessly from illnesses that may be curable, or at best, treatable. More emphasis should be put on researching the genetic component of diseases, and less emphasis should be put on making the victims feel stigmatized. And I think the term "mental illness" should be parked in the lexicon of all the other politically incorrect terms that thoughtful people no longer use.

But, as I said earlier -- this is just my opinion.

Vancouver -- A Ketchup-Free Zone

Vancouver has been chosen by The Economist as the most livable city in the world in which to live, and by Mercer as the third most livable, following Zurich and Vienna. Well, we who live in Vancouver already knew that. I have been to Paris, London and New York, and I love them all. They are wonderful cities. Truly wonderful. But when I fly back to Vancouver I am gobsmacked by the beauty of the place. We are really fairly isolated, situated on the edge of the ocean, with the mountains on one side and the rain forest on the other. But somehow the world has found us and in so doing has brought a cosmopolitan flair to Vancouver. The rest of the major cities in Canada didn't even make the top ten...

One of the things Vancouver is famous for is its restaurants. I was reading some of my favorite blogs yesterday, and I saw a comment from someone who had visited Vancouver not long ago. The commenter said, "I had been warned about Canadian food (someone had even told me the ketchup was bad), but it really was (with the exception of my host’s stew which was excellent and most delicious)!"

We get our ketchup from Heinz, which is the same as everywhere else. We don't make our ketchup here.

Anyway, Vancouver is a ketchup-free zone.

Kidding, kidding...

The the consensus opinion from the people that visit here is that Vancouver has amazing food and there are restaurants of all ethnics and cultures, and no, we don't all eat sushi for breakfast, lunch and dinner. There is a wonderful little diner here called Café Medina, and they specialize in breakfasts and brunches. One of the dishes you can get is waffles with a topping of dark chocolate, mixed berry compote, lavender milk chocolate, pistachio white chocolate, raspberry caramel, fig orange marmalade, maple syrup, or yogurt -- for $3.15. Hold the ketchup.

Here is a "brief" list of the different types of restaurants we have in Vancouver, and how many of each there are.

• Afghan (3)
• African (3)
• Afternoon Tea (10)
• American (61)
• Argentinean (1)
• Asian (28)
• Bagels (14)
• Bar Food (45)
• Barbecue (23)
• Basque (1)
• Belgian (2)
• Brazilian (3)
• Brazilian Steakhouse (1)
• Breakfast (76)
• British (1)
• Burgers (70)
• Cajun (5)
• California (4)
• Californian (3)
• Canadian (186)
• Caribbean (5)
• Catering (52)
• Chinese (67)
• Comfort Food (33)
• Contemporary American (17)
• Contemporary Asian (24)
• Contemporary French (20)
• Continental (33)
• Creole (3)
• Crepes (12)
• Cuban (2)
• Desserts (102)
• Eastern European (3)
• English (5)
• Ethiopian (4)
• Euro-Asian (3)
• European (33)
• Fast Food (64)
• Filipino (5)
• Fish and Chips (24)
• Fondue (3)
• French (33)
• Fusion (38)
• German (8)
• Global (24)
• Greek (44)
• Hamburgers (47)
• Hot Dogs (9)
• Hungarian (1)
• Indian (39)
• Indonesian (6)
• International (55)
• Irish (4)
• Italian (88)
• Jamaican (4)
• Japanese (127)
• Jewish (2)
• Korean (16)
• Kosher (2)
• Latin (1)
• Latin American (7)
• Lebanese (5)
• Malaysian (11)
• Mediterranean (42)
• Mexican (30)
• Middle Eastern (13)
• Moroccan (5)
• Northwest (14)
• Organic (17)
• Organic Food (16)
• Pacific Northwest (130)
• Pan-Asian (3)
• Persian (1)
• Pizza (48)
• Portuguese (4)
• Ribs (12)
• Rumanian (1)
• Russian (2)
• Sandwiches (84)
• Seafood (110)
• Singaporean (4)
• Soul Food (6)
• Soup (46)
• South African (2)
• South American (1)
• South Pacific (3)
• Southeast Asian (5)
• Southern (2)
• Southwest (1)
• Southwestern (3)
• Spanish (7)
• Specialty Wines (27)
• Stadium (3)
• Steak (27)
• Steakhouse (35)
• Sushi (42)
• Swiss (2)
• Tea/Coffee (95)
• Tex-Mex (1)
• Thai (39)
• Thai French (1)
• Turkish (3)
• Tuscan (5)
• Ukrainian (1)
• Vegan (18)
• Vegetarian (84)
• Vietnamese (18)
• Wild Game (5)

Oh, and the host who made the "excellent and most delicious stew" referred to in the above-noted commenter's remarks? I made the stew...!