What I see when I go walking.

cool ice

long docks

crashed trees

Getting rid of stuff is a challenge.

The emotional aspect of letting go of the thing is something I’m getting pretty good at. There are some things though, usually my mom’s stuff, that I just say, “Let’s take it with us one more time.”

This go around though I’m finding the really hard part of getting rid of stuff, is the physical reality of it actually leaving the house, without just throwing it away.

Donating really nice things to the library fund raiser has been a good thing.

We’ve tried different ways to sell other things, and that’s not my cuppa tea. We held a yard sale, but that’s a lot of work and in the end, we just want to get rid of stuff, so I started just giving the stuff away.

Bowen Island has an on-line buy and sell sight that is quite handy. You take a photo of whatever you want to sell, price it, and someone says, they will take it! The hard part is the actual hooking up and  taking the deal to fruition doesn’t work that smoothly. People say they want things, then forget to come get the stuff. It’s the place I’ve posted things and instead of giving things away for free, I’ve asked for donations to our food bank in trade. I trust the folks to make good on the deal.

The best is of course giving stuff to the Tacky shop and the Sally Ann. This is the easiest way to pass on stuff. I’ve taken boxes and boxes there. I even went to town by myself on Monday, as the car was so full of stuff, that there was no room for Ken to go with me.

Like I said, I’m emotionally good at letting go of most stuff. Especially when I give it to someone who seems to really like it or need it.

And then….
Today, I checked the buy and sell sight for a look-see. And low and behold, a bunch of stuff I gave away is for sale! And none of it is all that cheap. I guess the lady I gave it all to didn’t really love it as much as she let on.

I know once you give something, it’s theirs to do what they want with it. I gave it freely and I do not want it. I don’t know the circumstance but, I admit to a having a bit of a tug at my heart, and I know my mother, who’s stuff it had been, would have flipped!

Allons-Y!

Years ago, I lived in Oklahoma and one dark and stormy night a tornado rushed through the small town I was living in and the wind from the storm blew the tree in our front yard down. This giant tree happen to fall square on my car.

My wonderful, blue Pacer wagon was squished like a pancake. The window were blown out, the tires were flatten — the car was flat — a tree fell on it!

It was my first go round with an insurance company. I learned a valuable lesson.

During the first call to make a claim, I was told that the damage to my car (it was totaled) would not, could not be covered, because, the tornado’s wind that made the tree come down was, “an act of god.” Nothing they could do. Sorry.

“Uhm… excuse me,” I said, to the fine agent at Liberty Mutual, “but I am an atheist and my car insurance premiums are paid in full. So make the check out to me!”

Then she said, uhm….oh….Well, we can only offer you X amount. I said Y would be better, and it wasn’t long before we settled on Z.

I had no idea before that first claim, that you could and must negotiate with the companies who insure you.

Now, knock wood, over the many years of being very dutiful in having proper home and car insurance we’ve rarely had the need to put in a claim. But, still my negotiating skills come into play once a year when what ever policy I am dealing with is up for renewal.

It never fails. They say we owe X, I ask for Y and we settle on Z. Seriously, every time I ask, they lower the premium. They magically seem to find another discount that I am eligible for.

I don’t know why the price for the coverage we ask for isn’t on some chart. Maybe it is, but in case you didn’t know this, the price on the chart for insurance is always negotiable.

Right now, I am spending a lot of time dealing with the details and business of finishing up the sale of this house and the buying of the other. I’m not sure why we hire a relator, it seems it is up to us to finish the deal. So I am dealing with lawyers and insurance people.

Thanks to that first lesson in Oklahoma so many years ago, the question that makes the most difference in all this is…. Can you give us a better price?

Funny, how they all seem to be able to give us a better deal when all is said and done.

Well, not the lawyers. Their price is set. 🙂

Everyone is asking.

No, I’m not going to Arizona to see Kim. I’ve thought about it a lot. I appreciate the support offered me and see how I could go. I’ve checked in with Lorin and I made the decision not to go now.

I have no regret. I’m in touch, and it feels like the right thing — right now. I can always change my mind.

In some ways this makes me think of being at my mothers funeral, and at least eight women came up to me and said, “Your mother was my best friend.” At least eight, maybe even nine or ten!

When Jan Daly died, people came out of the wood work claiming best friend status. There was a weird “I’m sadder than you are” unsaid, strange, and underlying competition. It was super weird.

There was the same type of very strange competition at my moms funeral. We know Betty was mom’s real best friend, and we know Linda was Jan Daly’s. AND, we also know both women were loved by a lot of people.

That’s a good thing.

Kim is also loved by a lot of people. She has three brothers and a sister, a son, a grandson, a husband, nieces, nephews, cousins, and a superabundance of friends, work friends, old friends, neighbours, and yes…. At least eight or nine, best friends. ☺

I am one of them.

She’d probably kill me for posting this picture of her here, but I’m doing it anyway. Her son Jason posted it on Facebook, and it got 128 “likes.” It’s in the world. She is getting attention and love. It makes me smile, and Jason said, she took a turn for the better this weekend.

Love is what counts.

We are a little busy around here, there is a lot going on, and yet, I am looking at travel sights on line. I want to fly south for a few days and hang with my friend Kim. I just want to hold her hand.

Kim is being treated at the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, Arizona. I can get a direct flight from Vancouver straight into Phoenix where apparently Scottsdale is a suburb.

Just in case you are new to this story, Kim and I met in grade 7. Long story short, she is my friend.

Kim has been battling lymphoma since last April. Last week, she checked into the Mayo for a stem cell transplant. Her husband Lorin, called me last night, things are not going so smooth.

They did harvest her cells and then she got pretty sick from the meds and hasn’t been able to keep any food down — she also started to lose some of her short term memory.

The Drs. ordered a MRI and found a mass in her brain. They of course weren’t sure what it was without a biopsy, so this morning, they did that.

Fucking cancer.

Ken and I are busy right now. We have a lot going on — the timing, details and logistics of a trip at this time will be difficult.  — But, my heart is having trouble getting things done here, when I could be sitting with my friend there.

There is never a good time for fucking cancer.

“So, this will be your last Christmas on Bowen.”

Our friend Rosie gave us a small Christmas tree. She found it at the tacky shop, and brought it over, because she knew we would not be decorating on our “last Christmas” on Bowen.

Now, before I get all sappy about this. I also know that Christmas is a funny time for people. We put special meaning on the season. This is the time when some people like the snow. Shopping becomes important, and gooey shows on TV make other wise sane people blubber like babies.
More than anything though, we remember. If we are lucky, we get in the “spirit” of the season, and enjoy love, generosity and memories.

This may be our last Christmas on Bowen, but some people will have to experience this first Christmas without; never dreaming they would be spending this holiday without a parent, spouse, friend, or pet . The first Christmas without a loved one is hard.

My Grandmother Chambers died on Christmas Day 43 years ago. I think of her a lot this time of year. The first Christmas without her was horrible. The second was sad too. My mom said, her death “ruined Christmas.” Duh…. Yet, as time goes on, each year got a little easier to celebrate. Christmas is not ruined, never was, and can’t be as long as we remember those we love.

2014, our last, or perhaps it’s our first Christmas with _________ or without _________ (fill in the blank).

Celebrate and remember.

As usual there are several books by my bedside table. I don’t have any dogs on the go right now. One is a bit dark and hard to get into. One is for an on-line book discussion. Then last night I finished The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shafer and Annie Barrows.

I’ll just say it. Loved it! 5 stars!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is written entirely through letters, or the correspondence between a writer named Juliet Ashton, her friends, and the people of Guernsey as they tell the tale of their life on the island during the German Occupation.

In a small way (without the privilege, wealth, and war) the camera could be turned on some characters of Bowen Island and there would be similar quirks if folks told their story through letters.

I loved the way the authors wrote. Yes, authors. It took two to tell the story, as Mary Ann Shaffer got sick before it was done, so her niece stepped in to finish the book.

I enjoyed the story and the suspense and especially the format. I think there something delicious about reading other peoples mail.

Writing letters is almost a dead art, writing great letters even more so. I still send letters, and this book inspires a desire to spend more time on them. To write a good letter and really say something. My friend Anna says, you just need to say one interesting thing in a letter. This book is proof.

The story itself is lovely. There is the harsh reality of how people deal with being victims of war, mixed with living in community. And of course there is a love story as well.

I think this would be a good book to read out loud to someone.

I love a good read and this was. I didn’t want it to end. I woke up wondering what the folks of Guernsey are doing today!

We have 50 more sleeps left in Tunstall Bay. That’s a lot and not much. I am back and forth between the panic of not having the time we need to get everything done; to the worst fear of sitting in a totally packed up house for three weeks, waiting.

I am the type of person who thinks that if I’m not early, I am late. I arrive at most appointments quite early and either sit in the car waiting or I walk around the block until it isn’t so early to be uncomfortable for others. We are usually first to arrive to parties. We don’t miss ferries, airplanes, or appointments. I doubt I ever started a class one minute late. My concern of not being ready to move is not a real fear. The sitting in a boxed up house for a few weeks is.

sidenote:

I’ve read a few great blog posts by others in the last few days, and I’m reading a great book right now.  I recognize good writing.

I aspire.