Hi,
the joke in my family used to be that Eric (my brother) and I could sleep through anything, including a fire... which we did at our cottage when we were kids. As the neighbouring cottage burned to the ground one early morning, and everyone in the area ended up in our place with crying kids, panicked moms and fire fighters all over the place, Eric & I slept soundly. Those days are long gone.
Now the least little thing wakes me. That would be fine if I had my husbands' talent for falling back asleep. I don't. I'm up and my brain goes in to hyper-mode churning over the dumbest things at 3am. Is there anything ever 'smart' to think about at 3am? Laundry, food shopping lists, bill paying, chirping crickets, the pain in my neck, I can't shut any of it out. I do get a lot of reading done, sometimes I knit, rarely do I bother trying to find a decent old movie to watch. Is any of this worth losing sleep over? No, but my brain and my body are in total disconnect. I am physically tired, my head just isn't playing along with the program. On nights like these I'd sign up for a lobotomy if I thought it would help.
I never used to understand adults complaining about 'not sleeping'. Who cared? Sleep was easy, close your eyes, call the Sandman, game over. Up until I got sick with cancer I never had sleeping issues. Since then I have joined the realm of the waking dead-heads. Sleep deprivation is ugly and it hurts. Where I used to take 8 hours of shut-eye for granted now I'm thrilled if I get more than 6 in a night. Naps don't work. I'm not able to shut off during the day any better than I am at night and if I do sleep mid-day then I'm off kilter the rest of the time and my body clock doesn't know where it's supposed to be set. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
The only thing that seems to work is if I can get my body so whacked out from physical work I drop off the edge of conscientiousness without enough strength to keep myself awake one second longer. Gardening, swimming, house cleaning, pond scrubbing are all useful for tiring me out. Marshall thinks I'm a compulsive clean freak but I just think it's the only way to exhaust myself enough to get some rest.... with a touch of 'water addiction' thrown into the fray. This works for a few nights but not always. Pills aren't a good answer. The drug residue is unkind the next day and I'm not a good addict. I'd rather clean the bathtub at 2am than try sleeping pills.
Eventually I do run out of steam but the cycle starts to build again after one or two nights and then I'm awake looking for something to do. Tonight it's blogging. We'll see if that knocks me out. Doubt it. Now I'm wide awake and in typing mode.
What I wouldn't give for those 8-9 hour stretches of blissful unawareness. Oh look.... a fire!
xox
m
Day Lily!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
my words
Hi,
it's all about the feedback. Without some input from the public at large you have no idea if you are spitting into the wind or hitting a target with the bomb. I write for the enjoyment of putting words down. I thank Mrs. Joiner, my grade 9 English teacher at Lawrence Park Collegiate for this pleasure. She loved words. Any words. Mrs. Joiner thought that the pen was mightier than the sword in so many ways, and that there was nothing funnier than a good pun.
What did the salmon say when he swam up to the wall?
"Dam"
See, you laughed, I know you did. Even without me standing beside you, I have the means to make you smile, giggle, cry, think, express, wonder or react... and it only took 'words'. Now THAT is power!
When a speech is delivered, it is always a success when the words being delivered have a meaningful message behind them, or they are funny, or both. Comedians are some of the best writers and speech makers. Lenny Bruce was one of the first modern comics to take humor and try to express his message of anger at the established up-tight society of the time. His messages where usually found shocking, and got him thrown in jail more than once but his delivery of words were what many people feared to say out loud. When the audience heard Lenny scream obscenities about the stupid way government was handling things they roared with laughter. It was what they all wanted to say but didn't the the forum to. Bruce opened up the possibility of getting people to explode about what they locked up inside themselves. He certainly did explode.
Great comedic writers like Steve Allen, George Carlin, Woody Allen, Lewis Black, all have a gift with both seeing the sublime and putting it into humorous writing... but they also made us think. The philosophers of our day are our comedians. They have honed the art of showing the foibles in society, making us aware but at the same time getting to the funny side and causing less harm in doing so. It's all about the words.... so I put them down in this blog. I hope they make you think Mrs. Joiner did an okay job in teaching me about the power of words. It's all about the feedback.
xox
m
it's all about the feedback. Without some input from the public at large you have no idea if you are spitting into the wind or hitting a target with the bomb. I write for the enjoyment of putting words down. I thank Mrs. Joiner, my grade 9 English teacher at Lawrence Park Collegiate for this pleasure. She loved words. Any words. Mrs. Joiner thought that the pen was mightier than the sword in so many ways, and that there was nothing funnier than a good pun.
What did the salmon say when he swam up to the wall?
"Dam"
See, you laughed, I know you did. Even without me standing beside you, I have the means to make you smile, giggle, cry, think, express, wonder or react... and it only took 'words'. Now THAT is power!
When a speech is delivered, it is always a success when the words being delivered have a meaningful message behind them, or they are funny, or both. Comedians are some of the best writers and speech makers. Lenny Bruce was one of the first modern comics to take humor and try to express his message of anger at the established up-tight society of the time. His messages where usually found shocking, and got him thrown in jail more than once but his delivery of words were what many people feared to say out loud. When the audience heard Lenny scream obscenities about the stupid way government was handling things they roared with laughter. It was what they all wanted to say but didn't the the forum to. Bruce opened up the possibility of getting people to explode about what they locked up inside themselves. He certainly did explode.
Great comedic writers like Steve Allen, George Carlin, Woody Allen, Lewis Black, all have a gift with both seeing the sublime and putting it into humorous writing... but they also made us think. The philosophers of our day are our comedians. They have honed the art of showing the foibles in society, making us aware but at the same time getting to the funny side and causing less harm in doing so. It's all about the words.... so I put them down in this blog. I hope they make you think Mrs. Joiner did an okay job in teaching me about the power of words. It's all about the feedback.
xox
m
Saturday, July 23, 2011
one hundred degrees
hi,
it's hot. How hot is it, you ask? Are you kidding... if you are anywhere in North America you are feeling the direct effect of Global Warming or 'revenge of Al Gore' as I have come to think of it. This was all his idea, like the Internet was, right?
I arrived home from my stay in Toronto to a house that obviously missed me. Marshall held the fort down just fine, what a guy, but the minute I got in, the place went to hell in a hand basket fast. Thursday morning, as I made my way down to the laundry room I was greeted by a swamped floor in the basements' unfinished area. I couldn't tell if the air conditioner had leaked, the dehumidifier was on a temper tantrum or the sump-pump had given out... or all of the above. I had to run upstairs to find the plumbers phone number (water equals plumber issues in my mind) and as I passed the heating-A/C control panel I saw the temperature in the house was already over 80°.. and it was 9:30am. Okay, I get the hint, leaving home is like leaving an untrained puppy to run around and pee everywhere or pull all the toilet paper off the rolls.....
Our plumber shows up a few hours after I call for help. The floor drain in the basement is totally blocked. Could it be that the burst water tank 6 months ago, or the expansion tank leak last month cause a lot of crap to build up in the pipe? Maybe the whole house hates me? The plumber has no success snaking out the drain, he gives me a number to a "Power Rooter" operation who has bigger and more powerful snakes. I in no way want to start any rumors about the size of my plumbers snake not being long enough, he's great guy and I'm sure his wife is happy with his equipment. The Power Rooter men are successful in cleaning out the floor drain and getting water to flow again. All I have to do is wash the floor for the 4th time. On to the A/C problem.
My plumber rescues me again by having a great A/C company for me to contact. They send out a repairman within 2 hours of my call. Nick is now my latest best-buddy. He tops up the air conditioner unit with F22 (freon?) and comments on liking the huge 1950's freezer in the basement. If he ever talks his girlfriend into letting him have it, he's coming back to take the sucker apart and put it in his house, power to him! It weighs 2 tonnes. The house is now happy. The basement is dry, the A/C has our house back to a livable temperature of 78° and all it took was a little sweat and a lot of money. Own a house, write out cheques, it's the way of the world.
At least we can hide indoors in the conditioned splendor... that is until the power goes out again. The 100° heat has caused power overloads to black us out in the early evening. Sushi by candle light worked out perfectly last night for dinner. I had made the rice in the afternoon while waiting around for service men to appear. Timing is everything.... especially when it's hot.
xox
m
it's hot. How hot is it, you ask? Are you kidding... if you are anywhere in North America you are feeling the direct effect of Global Warming or 'revenge of Al Gore' as I have come to think of it. This was all his idea, like the Internet was, right?
I arrived home from my stay in Toronto to a house that obviously missed me. Marshall held the fort down just fine, what a guy, but the minute I got in, the place went to hell in a hand basket fast. Thursday morning, as I made my way down to the laundry room I was greeted by a swamped floor in the basements' unfinished area. I couldn't tell if the air conditioner had leaked, the dehumidifier was on a temper tantrum or the sump-pump had given out... or all of the above. I had to run upstairs to find the plumbers phone number (water equals plumber issues in my mind) and as I passed the heating-A/C control panel I saw the temperature in the house was already over 80°.. and it was 9:30am. Okay, I get the hint, leaving home is like leaving an untrained puppy to run around and pee everywhere or pull all the toilet paper off the rolls.....
Our plumber shows up a few hours after I call for help. The floor drain in the basement is totally blocked. Could it be that the burst water tank 6 months ago, or the expansion tank leak last month cause a lot of crap to build up in the pipe? Maybe the whole house hates me? The plumber has no success snaking out the drain, he gives me a number to a "Power Rooter" operation who has bigger and more powerful snakes. I in no way want to start any rumors about the size of my plumbers snake not being long enough, he's great guy and I'm sure his wife is happy with his equipment. The Power Rooter men are successful in cleaning out the floor drain and getting water to flow again. All I have to do is wash the floor for the 4th time. On to the A/C problem.
My plumber rescues me again by having a great A/C company for me to contact. They send out a repairman within 2 hours of my call. Nick is now my latest best-buddy. He tops up the air conditioner unit with F22 (freon?) and comments on liking the huge 1950's freezer in the basement. If he ever talks his girlfriend into letting him have it, he's coming back to take the sucker apart and put it in his house, power to him! It weighs 2 tonnes. The house is now happy. The basement is dry, the A/C has our house back to a livable temperature of 78° and all it took was a little sweat and a lot of money. Own a house, write out cheques, it's the way of the world.
At least we can hide indoors in the conditioned splendor... that is until the power goes out again. The 100° heat has caused power overloads to black us out in the early evening. Sushi by candle light worked out perfectly last night for dinner. I had made the rice in the afternoon while waiting around for service men to appear. Timing is everything.... especially when it's hot.
xox
m
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
my first obituary
hi,
this is a sad day for our clan. One of our favorite family members took his own life yesterday and we are all devastated.
Is it appropriate to write an obit on my blog? I have no idea but I have to put this down in writing somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.
Michael Herman, 62, loved by all who met him and knew him. Literally.
No one seemed stronger or more gentle than Michael. I met him when I was in Grade 8. My cousin, Mary Ellen brought him to our family Passover Seder that year and I fell in love with him. He sat next to me at the Seder table and spent the whole time talking to me as if I was the most important person in the world. He had that way about him that was focused and engaging. Michael also remembered the 8th grade history text book, practically verbatim, even though he was 10 years older than me. We discussed Henry VIII and all his wives. He was better than my history teacher. "Brilliant" was the adjective that described him. I was hooked for life on Michael Herman.
Michael and Mary Ellen married (I was so jealous she got him before I even had a chance), and had three fabulous children, Jacob, Rebeca & Elizabeth. They suffered loosing 'Lizzie' to a rare blood disorder that she battled her whole life of almost 12 years. Michael became the family rock. he got everyone through Lizzie's passing away. Always saying the right thing and comforting the world. He took care of us all. That was how we survived, Michael made the hurt go away, seemingly absorbing your pain into him and never showing any signs of his own needs.
In the movie, The Green Mile, the main character is a huge man who has healing powers and saves people from their physical traumas. Michael was like that too. Larger than life, encompassing of everyones' grief, pain or sorrow. In the film the character finally succumbs and is relieved to die himself. He had had enough of trying to heal everyone and couldn't take the pain anymore. Maybe Michael was feeling like that, making his decision to take his own life, because he was too full to carry any more hurt inside. We will never know, and that is the pain that we will all carry for Michael the rest of our lives.
xox
m
this is a sad day for our clan. One of our favorite family members took his own life yesterday and we are all devastated.
Is it appropriate to write an obit on my blog? I have no idea but I have to put this down in writing somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.
Michael Herman, 62, loved by all who met him and knew him. Literally.
No one seemed stronger or more gentle than Michael. I met him when I was in Grade 8. My cousin, Mary Ellen brought him to our family Passover Seder that year and I fell in love with him. He sat next to me at the Seder table and spent the whole time talking to me as if I was the most important person in the world. He had that way about him that was focused and engaging. Michael also remembered the 8th grade history text book, practically verbatim, even though he was 10 years older than me. We discussed Henry VIII and all his wives. He was better than my history teacher. "Brilliant" was the adjective that described him. I was hooked for life on Michael Herman.
Michael and Mary Ellen married (I was so jealous she got him before I even had a chance), and had three fabulous children, Jacob, Rebeca & Elizabeth. They suffered loosing 'Lizzie' to a rare blood disorder that she battled her whole life of almost 12 years. Michael became the family rock. he got everyone through Lizzie's passing away. Always saying the right thing and comforting the world. He took care of us all. That was how we survived, Michael made the hurt go away, seemingly absorbing your pain into him and never showing any signs of his own needs.
In the movie, The Green Mile, the main character is a huge man who has healing powers and saves people from their physical traumas. Michael was like that too. Larger than life, encompassing of everyones' grief, pain or sorrow. In the film the character finally succumbs and is relieved to die himself. He had had enough of trying to heal everyone and couldn't take the pain anymore. Maybe Michael was feeling like that, making his decision to take his own life, because he was too full to carry any more hurt inside. We will never know, and that is the pain that we will all carry for Michael the rest of our lives.
xox
m
Friday, July 8, 2011
100 miles
Hi,
I have to tell you about Dr. Robert Gryfe, he's my dad's surgeon at Mount Sinai. An interesting guy.....
Dr. Gryfe is 45 years old but looks about 26. Tall 6'2", very lean, short dark hair, funky eyeglasses and a great sense of humor. I thought my dad got it wrong when he told me Dr.G. runs 100 miles in one day. I was sure he heard it incorrectly. Nope, that is exactly what was said. Dr.G. runs 100 miles (or more) in ONE day.
When I met the doctor for the first time on Tuesday my first impression was "He's the surgeon?" Robert looked like a complete nerd loping around the pre-op area and far too young for this job... more like a computer geek in high school. Wrong on all accounts. He's the best at this surgery according to the head nurses and they know!
After talking to my dad about the operation he was about to perform, and being very respectful to me, I had to ask him about the running-thing.
"100 miles a day, really?"
"yup, but not every day."
"That's good to hear, so you're not totally crazy, just occasionally nuts."
"yup"
I like this guy!
Turns out he's into 'extreme sport running marathons'. That's an understatement. He got into running in med school and never stopped, like Forest Gump I guess. He runs 15 minute miles during these events (hey, I can run that! only 3 in a row, not 100) and it can take him any where from 24-36 hours at a time. Yes, he runs for a full day or more at one time. Let me print that again for all of you who are still shaking your head.... at ONE time! I had a hard time imagining this also. His favorite race was in Death Valley, in 120° heat, for 30 hours. It's called "The Death Race"... can you guess why? Duh!
Over the last 2 days I have quizzed Robert on his need to do these races. He does as many as 5 in a year... not crazy just once, but multiple times, oy vey. He says that it's not about speed, because he certainly isn't a fast runner, it's the endurance that he likes. I think he's addicted to salt, or punishment, maybe both. I know he's a doctor but I can't believe he would abuse his body this way. Okay, I am jealous of his long legs but I wouldn't be trying to wear them out so quickly if they were mine.
He is a great surgeon, dad is doing wonderful, and one very nice man with a perfect bedside manor. Yesterday when we talked about his running he told us about his zaidie (grandfather). Zaidie asked Robert one day (use a strong European-Jewish accent when you read this)
"So, when you run these races, do you run on a course?"
''yeah Zadie"
"So you start at one end... and you end up at the same place you started?"
"yeah Zadie, back at the beginning again... "
"You run 100 miles, only to end up where you started? So why run? Mishuga*!"
Those of you with Zaidies will completely understand that conversation and why we laughed so hard in hearing Robert re-tell it.
xox
m
*"Mishuga" translates into "crazy"in Yiddish, in case you didn't figure it out for yourself ;)
I have to tell you about Dr. Robert Gryfe, he's my dad's surgeon at Mount Sinai. An interesting guy.....
Dr. Gryfe is 45 years old but looks about 26. Tall 6'2", very lean, short dark hair, funky eyeglasses and a great sense of humor. I thought my dad got it wrong when he told me Dr.G. runs 100 miles in one day. I was sure he heard it incorrectly. Nope, that is exactly what was said. Dr.G. runs 100 miles (or more) in ONE day.
When I met the doctor for the first time on Tuesday my first impression was "He's the surgeon?" Robert looked like a complete nerd loping around the pre-op area and far too young for this job... more like a computer geek in high school. Wrong on all accounts. He's the best at this surgery according to the head nurses and they know!
After talking to my dad about the operation he was about to perform, and being very respectful to me, I had to ask him about the running-thing.
"100 miles a day, really?"
"yup, but not every day."
"That's good to hear, so you're not totally crazy, just occasionally nuts."
"yup"
I like this guy!
Turns out he's into 'extreme sport running marathons'. That's an understatement. He got into running in med school and never stopped, like Forest Gump I guess. He runs 15 minute miles during these events (hey, I can run that! only 3 in a row, not 100) and it can take him any where from 24-36 hours at a time. Yes, he runs for a full day or more at one time. Let me print that again for all of you who are still shaking your head.... at ONE time! I had a hard time imagining this also. His favorite race was in Death Valley, in 120° heat, for 30 hours. It's called "The Death Race"... can you guess why? Duh!
Over the last 2 days I have quizzed Robert on his need to do these races. He does as many as 5 in a year... not crazy just once, but multiple times, oy vey. He says that it's not about speed, because he certainly isn't a fast runner, it's the endurance that he likes. I think he's addicted to salt, or punishment, maybe both. I know he's a doctor but I can't believe he would abuse his body this way. Okay, I am jealous of his long legs but I wouldn't be trying to wear them out so quickly if they were mine.
He is a great surgeon, dad is doing wonderful, and one very nice man with a perfect bedside manor. Yesterday when we talked about his running he told us about his zaidie (grandfather). Zaidie asked Robert one day (use a strong European-Jewish accent when you read this)
"So, when you run these races, do you run on a course?"
''yeah Zadie"
"So you start at one end... and you end up at the same place you started?"
"yeah Zadie, back at the beginning again... "
"You run 100 miles, only to end up where you started? So why run? Mishuga*!"
Those of you with Zaidies will completely understand that conversation and why we laughed so hard in hearing Robert re-tell it.
xox
m
*"Mishuga" translates into "crazy"in Yiddish, in case you didn't figure it out for yourself ;)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
the great white north
Hi,
I'm in Toronto, and even though the circumstances aren't the best, I'm loving it.
Dad is in the hospital and had a chunk of his colon with cancer removed yesterday. The surgery was successful, at least the surgeon was happy with his job. We will get pathology results in a few weeks and hopefully all the cancer was removed, the lymph nodes are clear and he can get one with his next issue, kidney stones! They (the doctors) have already scheduled dad for a procedure in August to get the stones out of him. We're hoping he's well enough by then to deal with a second surgery. The man is a dynamo but he's also almost 84 years old.... we'll see what happens. One thing at a time.
I'm getting my mom down to the hospital and home every day. This is not an easy task: dealing with the wheel chair, her lack of mobility, Toronto traffic.... oy vey. It's also "summer", the season of road repair in the Great White North. Every major and minor route in the city is under construction, renovation, re-building, paving or just generally messed up for the fun of it. Can you say "head ache"? I can. Where does the city think the traffic will go if they close all the road down to ½ a lane each way? I guess the new Mayor Rob Ford doesn't care, he's up at his family cottage in Bracebridge, away from this mess.
Speaking of the 'mayor', he is on every gay persons' sh*t list for skipping the Gay Pride Week Parade last week. It's a huge deal here with over 1 million attendees.. everyone gay, straight, families and friends come out to celebrate and party. It's a blast. Rob Ford made a conscience decision to avoid it and he's the first mayor of T.O. who has not attended the event in some manor. Shame on him. The gay community in Toronto is fabulous and should be supported in my view. They have turned parts of this city into some of the coolest real estate in the country with restaurants, shops and real pride of ownership for everything they touch.
To zing the mayors' homophobia someone produced 20,000 pink postcards with a chubby beaver on it saying: "Mayor Rob Ford Likes Cottaging".
"Cottaging" is British gay slang for anonymous sex between men in public lavatories. Gotcha baby!
On the up-side: I took mom to get her hair cut to my old stylist, Gavin. He is magic with scissors and mom loved her cut & him. I had lunch at Kow Loon, one of my most delicious Chinese restaurants. Heaven. Yesterday I walked Kensington Market, buying raisins, apricots and almonds at an outdoor bulk food stand, visited my favorite cheese shop just for the aroma and people-watched on Spadina in Chinatown. This weekend is the Outdoor Art Show at City Hall where over 500 artists set up their wares for browsing and sale. I'm planning on walking the show for a few hours..... I miss this city, more than I realized.
Time to crash, tomorrow is another day of running around and hospital sitting.
xox
m
I'm in Toronto, and even though the circumstances aren't the best, I'm loving it.
Dad is in the hospital and had a chunk of his colon with cancer removed yesterday. The surgery was successful, at least the surgeon was happy with his job. We will get pathology results in a few weeks and hopefully all the cancer was removed, the lymph nodes are clear and he can get one with his next issue, kidney stones! They (the doctors) have already scheduled dad for a procedure in August to get the stones out of him. We're hoping he's well enough by then to deal with a second surgery. The man is a dynamo but he's also almost 84 years old.... we'll see what happens. One thing at a time.
I'm getting my mom down to the hospital and home every day. This is not an easy task: dealing with the wheel chair, her lack of mobility, Toronto traffic.... oy vey. It's also "summer", the season of road repair in the Great White North. Every major and minor route in the city is under construction, renovation, re-building, paving or just generally messed up for the fun of it. Can you say "head ache"? I can. Where does the city think the traffic will go if they close all the road down to ½ a lane each way? I guess the new Mayor Rob Ford doesn't care, he's up at his family cottage in Bracebridge, away from this mess.
Speaking of the 'mayor', he is on every gay persons' sh*t list for skipping the Gay Pride Week Parade last week. It's a huge deal here with over 1 million attendees.. everyone gay, straight, families and friends come out to celebrate and party. It's a blast. Rob Ford made a conscience decision to avoid it and he's the first mayor of T.O. who has not attended the event in some manor. Shame on him. The gay community in Toronto is fabulous and should be supported in my view. They have turned parts of this city into some of the coolest real estate in the country with restaurants, shops and real pride of ownership for everything they touch.
To zing the mayors' homophobia someone produced 20,000 pink postcards with a chubby beaver on it saying: "Mayor Rob Ford Likes Cottaging".
"Cottaging" is British gay slang for anonymous sex between men in public lavatories. Gotcha baby!
On the up-side: I took mom to get her hair cut to my old stylist, Gavin. He is magic with scissors and mom loved her cut & him. I had lunch at Kow Loon, one of my most delicious Chinese restaurants. Heaven. Yesterday I walked Kensington Market, buying raisins, apricots and almonds at an outdoor bulk food stand, visited my favorite cheese shop just for the aroma and people-watched on Spadina in Chinatown. This weekend is the Outdoor Art Show at City Hall where over 500 artists set up their wares for browsing and sale. I'm planning on walking the show for a few hours..... I miss this city, more than I realized.
Time to crash, tomorrow is another day of running around and hospital sitting.
xox
m
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