Nurturing, teaching, healing, touching … a Mother’s hands reach out from her heart.
Into your soul and spirit where you give them wings as you grow and touch others.
Gentle, soothing, loving … a Mother’s words warm your spirit. And guide you on your journey.
Where you move through life hearing her voice and finding your way.
Home to the safe haven. The love nest. The cocoon. Where you are happy.
The peace of knowing you are loved. Forever. Always.
A mother’s love knows no bounds. It’s eternal. It lives on in all those who she touches and has touched. A love that shines brightly even in dark nights.
These days it’s tricky knowing what day it is. They all blend. Unless you’re addicted to a tv show in a particular time slot, you’re oblivious. There’s nothing on our calendars and no reminder notices about upcoming appointments. It’s just another day in isolation. Ho hum.
I can’t even imagine working during these times. Our business did not lend itself to working from home. At all. But I’m sure the office complexions are going to see huge overhauls after this. Businesses are making massive adjustments to accommodate the balance between functionality and production. Some may even realize they can reduce their real estate footprint and scale back offering work from home options and flex schedules.
Reduced working commuters also means less congestion on the roads. Even kids are learning from home. The green folks must be delighted. Why isn’t the scare monger media reporting on the positives of this plandemic? They keep sharing the number of new cases and deaths. Neither of which changes the reality; it’s not the plague they forecasted. People are getting on with things and world continues to turn. Are the only ones really not working through this (contrived?) crisis government workers? Are they largely like rockstars and pro athletes: fun to have around but clearly inessential?
The push by business and government to have people run their life on line is now a necessity. Paperless and people-less.
As the days blend together and our personal hygiene takes a nose dive into oblivion we go about our daily routines. For some of us there’s little change. The pre-crisis routine was mostly similar. For others it’s a game changer. Really great or really bad. All I know is there’s line ups in front of the liquor store. TGIF.
One of the things about being cooped up is the opportunity to let the creative juices flow. There’s a myriad of ideas and one look at any such website (so many to choose from) will give you more ideas than you can handle. But there are some that don’t need a trip to the store or any special equipment. That’s the key. Be low key.
The other issues are functionality. Why make something that’s not useful? It’s ok when you’re a kid to make a cute something out of an empty toilet paper roll. And god knows there’s a surplus of those around. But it’s not useful now. Maybe fun to make but then what?? You don’t want to be the giver or receiver of useless stuff. It was a major criteria in my quest.
The final box to tick was investment. I didn’t want to invest in something that in a few weeks when the virus craze blows over I’d be stuck with another gadget that sits on a shelf collecting dust. And costs to do so. No point in wasting money or real estate. Several years back we bought Sarah a “cricket”. This machine helps with scrapbooking and card making which she likes to do. But she has a room in her house dedicated to this stuff. Like a man cave or a she shed there’s crafters corner. Not for me.
So low key, useful and no investment or special space required. Ta da!
So I tried my luck at making something that ticks all the boxes and then some. Bath bombs. That’s right! How perfect in every way. Anyone who knows me gets that a luxury bath is a must have. A deep spacious tub with good lighting if I choose to read and plenty of hot water. And, equally important, bubbles and scents. Bath bombs are perfect.
First I researched recipes. There’s a ton out there (like everything else) and they are all similar. I like reading the comments and tips. Seems I’m not the only one out there who’s turned their kitchen into a scented lab. The main ingredients are readily available in most homes already: baking soda, Epsom salts, corn starch and essential oils (I used lavender). Plus a few drops of water and a few drops of oil. And cupcake or chocolate moulds and a large mixing bowl. A jar with a lid is useful. The one thing you might need to buy is citric acid. That’s what makes the fizz. Kind of important.
Mise en place takes up minimal room. The process is super simple too. All dry ingredients in the bowl then add the shaken up (in the jar) wet ingredients. The mixture is like very slightly damp wet sand. Then it gets pressed into the mould. I added some dried rosemary to one batch by sprinkling it into the mould before pressing the mixture on top. Here’s the main trick: press the mixture down with a spoon as firmly as you can. The tighter the better. Then you flip the bombs onto a sheet of wax paper or parchment paper and let them dry for a day or two.
Voila. Nice smelling (and cute) bath bombs. I have tried them out and they are perfect. I might add food colouring next time for a bit of a twist. But the white is actually quite pretty. Of course they never go bad. Another perk that I didn’t consider.
Now boarding all passengers. This is it. Kevin sauntered up to the agent at the gate and presented his ID. He flashed his amazing smile one last time on domestic soil. The beginning of his new life. The final chapter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing down he sees it’s her. Again. Resisting the urge to just chuck the phone. He turns it completely off and heads to the plane. In no time he will be in the air and she will be a blip in his rear view mirror.
Having nothing but mini panic attacks she thought she’d call his office to get the best place to send him a surprise gift. Just a little congrats on the deal closing and gooey love stuff. Mixing business and pleasure would be her new hobby. But when she went to the website to get the number the site was not there. Error 404. Page not found. She tried again. Checked her internet connection. Googled. What was going on?? She frantically emptied her purse looking for his business card. The knot in her stomach was becoming a giant boulder. Please let this be a nothing. Please let him text me back. Oh. My. God.
She fumbles hysterically through the junk in her purse. Admonishing herself for being so lax and then realizing a messy purse is the least of her problems at the moment. When she spots the card she dials then number on it as fast as her shaking hands will allow. Beep … we’re sorry that number … Disconnecting she starts to cry. This is not happening. This can’t be real. Her crazed thoughts flip and flop between hurt, anger and embarrassment. In random order. Her money! Her pride! Her heart! All fizzling by the minute.
Barely stumbling to the couch she slides into a slumped over heap. She is too stunned to move. What should she do now? Her mind races trying to formulate a plan. There has to be a way to salvage this mess. Her instincts were right. Her friends were right. If it’s too good to be true it probably is. She could hear her mother’s voice clear as a bell. Let’s start by calling the financial guy. Doubtful that he can do anything at this point she tentatively calls his office with her fingers crossed. Voice mail. This would be the message that makes his day. Ha ha.
Kevin relaxed comfortably into his seat. He needed a drink. The last few days were a blurry buffet of activities. He pulled it off. He actually beat his own timelines. He reviewed the chronology in his mind. His buddy sparks the flame: come down south and live the life; all you need is $70 G’s. $20 to invest in some gear and a place and the rest is gravy in the mattress. Cash for life. With that goal in mind he evaluated the best way to “get rich quick”. Find a desperate broad. He hit pay dirt on the first one who responded to his lines. His charm was, after all, his best (and only) asset. But the lightening speed he got it all done was still amazing to him. He thought he’d be couch surfing for months putting everything together. He remembered his silenced phone and pulled it out. Turning it on one last time he reads her last text: when you get settled give me a call; I want to chat about the venture … having some second thoughts. Just being cautious.
Too late for that! He laughs to himself and closes the phone. He slips it into the seat pocket where it will stay until someone finds it (or not) and leans back. Have a nice trip!
Stuck in a dither she has polished off a bottle of wine. She needs to deal with things with a clear head. That’s not happening tonight. Two Advil and bed. She’d think about this again tomorrow. It takes forever to fall asleep and her foggy thoughts are a jumble of woe. As she finally drifts into an exhausted state her final thought is verging on panic and utter grief.
When her eyes crack open the next day she has a myriad of sensations. The rock in her gut is pulsating. Her head is pounding. Her heart is aching. She’s filled with dread. She pulls the covers over her head and sobs. Sobs become gasping heaving jerking waves. Her breath is shallow; heart racing and pounding. A full blown panic attack. Then nothing. No tears. No panting. Just nothing. Blank. Bleak. She needs a pen and her notebook. A list is what she should do. She needs a plan. She needs action.
While her coffee is percolating her phone beeps. There’s a fraction of a second where she feels a glimmer of hope. No. It’s her finance guy. This should be fun. He says he got her message and wanted to call first thing. He’s so sorry but there’s nothing he can do at his end. The draft was solid and it’s been cashed. No. There’s no way to sue. It wasn’t a standard investment with a firm; it was personal at her request. Nothing could be undone. Bright side: she still had the bulk of her retirement savings and he could up the risk margin to recoup the loss more quickly. Don’t make any decisions now. Call me when you’re ready. Or just to talk. As a friend. So sorry.
Nothing like pulling the band aid off quickly. And still having a gaping wound. The hurt was profound. She started to sob again. Then shook it off. Wallowing was not her style. And neither was being played the fool. Her phone campaign today would be a mission. Revenge with a capital R. He was not going to get away with this. She would make sure of it.
But after several calls and a lot of “so sorry this happened to you” blah blah she knew she had to move on. Maybe revenge was a therapeutic thought but not a feasible reality. It would cost her precious time and money to exact the punishment she felt he deserved. The guy was a mirage. Nothing about him was real. Except his smile. That was real enough even though it was also a masquerade. When he smiled it wasn’t genuine. She would never be fooled again.
Chiding herself was becoming a rut she thought as her phone beeped. Her best friend. Call me, her text said. Ok. Why not. She would have to engage at some point. Dialling she predicts the conversation. The finance guy, a mutual friend, called her to say there could be trouble. He didn’t divulge details. But what could she do to help?? Great. Just the discussion she didn’t want.
Time to come clean. The entire charade barfed out. Every last detail and slimy truth. When it was done she felt purged. Revived. Energized. This too shall pass.
Didn’t you say your husband’s friend was still single. Might be just the prescription for this ailment. Set it up.
In these days of chaotic living it seems that summer school may be a reality for many. Maybe. There’s so much uncertainty. Summer school was always seen as punitive: bad marks, too many missed days…. that rings a bell. Students crave the thing that they loathed. A lot of students are wishing and hoping that they have a chance to return to classes. If only they lived in Sweden. Or Quebec.
What this (so called) pandemic has delivered, not to diminish or downplay the illness factor, is a total disruption of everyday life. My father in law was felled by pneumonia at 99. The reality of living in long term care is bleak. It’s where people go to live their last months. A few years at most. When grampa (that’s what we called my father in law) was admitted to the home they gently told us that the average stay was one to two years. It’s why the best scenario is to live in a private residence not in an institution. Most of the residents never go outside. They are isolated inside and their fragile bodies and minds become less immune to anything. It’s a sad existence and the images of family members pressing their faces and hands up to the windows as they are barred from physical contact with their loved ones breaks my heart. It’s tremendously sad for these families. Not that death is unexpected but that it happens, in these days, in isolation.
Already we are hearing of lasting changes as our governments navigate the return to “normal”. I’m very interested and curious to watch the outcomes in Sweden. They chose not to shutter their country or economy. They are a small country of about 10M people and their biggest city is about 1.5M so the GTA alone is well beyond. I’m always amazed that policies and procedures are based on the populace areas where most of our country is rural if you remove our urban centres. Why, for example, is Nunavut in a declared emergency lockdown with zero cases or deaths. Has the mass panic and hysteria destroyed more than the actual virus?
I’m no expert. And trying to sift through the information (and misinformation) that’s readily available is exhausting. Here’s what I do know:
We spent the winter in Florida. In December we started hearing about the virus out of China. In March Disney World shut down. We knew then it was potentially serious. In our area, Polk County, many people derive their livelihood from tourism related businesses (our winter home is between Legoland and Disney). Schools were closed. Businesses closed except for food and hardware. Everyone stayed at home. Today there have been 18 deaths in Polk County (according to the state COVID stats). Everyone feared for our safety; the Canadian government recommended that everyone return home. Canadians were spread across the world.
We chose to stay put. Why stress the migration services and travel. We weren’t sick or fearful of insurance coverage. In a dire emergency we could drive home in about 22 hours. We didn’t need a flight or accommodation. The fear and fearful information was astounding. Friends and family voiced their concern. Rudy continued to play golf and we continued to do our outdoor activities. The information portrayed on the news about Florida was not our reality. At all.
At the end of March we vacated our Florida home and migrated to a home in Georgia. We had arranged this almost a year prior and decided there was no pressing reason for us to head back to winter. By now all of our friends had returned home. Their fear of border closures were baseless. Everyone we spoke to said that border crossing was simple and speedy. The line ups shown on tv did not exist according to them.
Our place in Georgia was a rural historic community about 1 hour south of Savannah; population of about 1,700. We were in a home on about 2 acres. Restaurants and most businesses were closed but the local grocery stores were open and well stocked. We enjoyed the rustic ambiance and stayed home. Of course having a dog means you have to go out for the twice daily duty rain or shine. Thank goodness. The sidewalk in our neighbourhood was lined with big old trees and historic homes; a beautiful place to walk. We rarely saw any other pedestrians and only a few bikers. The odd car that drive past slowed down and waved mostly. Our original booking was for three weeks and we’d hoped to explore the coast and Savannah, but everything was closed and everyone was at home. The only time we noticed movement was the drive in church service (exactly like the one that’s causing a ruckus here now). People stayed in their vehicles and the preacher stood on a riser with a sound system. Modified worship illegal apparently in Canada. A definite blow to the devout and for no reason in my opinion since a snaking crowded line up at Costco is ok. Bizarre. Today there have been 4 confirmed cases of COVID and zero deaths in McIntosh County where we were in Georgia.
But after two weeks we decided to come home. Increasing pressure from the fearful about borders and travelling (we heard that rest areas on the highway and hotels were closed) made us leave for Canada. None of the fears played out in our experience. All rest areas were open and super clean. Hotels were open and vigilant about sanitation. Restaurants were happy to deliver as needed (although we travelled with provisions due to the fearful warnings). The biggest downfall for us was the drastic change in temperatures. We were clearly not in the warmth anymore.
Just before crossing the border we stopped for groceries. We heard that we would not be able to shop once in Canada as we would be in quarantine for 14 days. The store I went to while Rudy filled our cars up with gas (another thing that we wouldn’t be able to do) was fully stocked and very efficient. Some people wore masks; most did not. With our cars full of groceries and gas, we headed to the border. I crossed first with Molly. There was not a soul in sight and we were the only car. We pulled up to the nexus booth and the agent asked where I was going. She asked if I had been following the news and advised that I would be in quarantine. She asked what I was bringing and I told her groceries; she said that was good because we couldn’t stop. She gave me a sheet of info about self isolation and we continued on. By the time I got to the St Catherine’s area car traffic was normal as usual. Rudy’s crossing was more strange in that he declared via video; no live agent at all. The voice told him to isolate for 14 days and no stopping en route. Not surprisingly he had to pee and was buzzed into the border facility. That’s it. No drama. No line up. No check for symptoms. Nada.
Traffic was steady all the way home. And it was snowing. It occurred to us that we’d pulled the plug too early. But here we were. At home alone for the fifth week. Thank goodness for Netflix and books. The provisions we brought with us in addition to the delivery from our local produce market (including a freshly baked pie and ice cream) were perfect.
After our quarantine our friend who managed our mail popped over to drop the last batch. He was full of questions about Florida and Georgia and how devastating it must have been. What?! We filled him in on the reality. We also let him know that Canada was a lot worse (in our area): our neighbour had fled Toronto where she was given a $800 ticket for sitting (alone) on a park bench; our friends son was pulled over and asked for ID and why he was driving in that area; snitch lines are overflowing; I’ve never seen more cars in our area (in spite of the recommendation not to travel to holiday homes). It’s far more militant here. Grey Bruce County has 77 confirmed cases. I couldn’t find any deaths. None of the cases are being hospitalized.
They’ve set up a field hospital and mobile testing centre at the local legion. I’m not sure why? I was hoping to be tested so that I could see my parents. Even though there’s no wait time for the test (apparently the centre is idle but fully staffed for 12 hours a day) I’m not eligible for the test because I have no symptoms nor have I been exposed to anyone confirmed. So I wait.
I call my parents everyday regardless of the lockdown. We chat about the same things as ever but now there’s a discussion on their fears of the virus and the restrictions on their movements. I tell them it’s temporary and that things will slowly return to normal. Even though I’m not so sure. The leaders are hesitant to take any steps for fear of “the second wave” or the “spike”. What do they expect when they let thousands of immuno suppressed lockdown people back out into the community.
It’s clear that the initial hypothesis about the numbers did not bear out. Thankfully. Now that data is available I hope that fact based, rather than hypothetical fear based, decisions are made for the greater good. I’m still cheering for Sweden.
A really great video I watched from California where two doctors on a panel reviewed their stats and concerns about COVID has been removed by You Tube. I wanted to share it because it clarified the situation in their view and was not politically motivated. Alas, the erosion of freedom of speech has begun?
Being isolated is boring. I’ve been playing a few more games than usual. My screen time is way up. I hate that. But there is a weird upside. I get to be people that I’m not.
When you don’t have Facebook you can’t login to games as yourself. So you get to be a guest and make up a person to be. In some games you get an avatar that dresses based on points you earn when you win the game. You make up a name and choose the persona. Then dress them based on your “budget”. It can get interesting.
Meet “Lola”. She’s me when I play Spades. She’s a quirky chick with glasses and a silly hat. She’s a risk taker in the game often making bets she can’t possibly win to frustrate the computer opponents. It didn’t take long to figure out that some nerd had made up characters to fill in the seats at the card table. They have given characters stupid names like: juicy_pirate and tinydancer and crazyCowboy. And girls are boys; some with beards. Anything goes.
It got me thinking, the whole anonymous character thing, how easy it is to slip into a fake persona. Be something other than your real self. I suspect that some may find it intriguing to take on an interesting new profile. But I can also see how this can be a dark and dangerous arena for nefariousness. The internet is, after all, a mostly “Wild West” playing field. Unsupervised and unchecked. I would hate to have to parent around it.
However, for the benign games I play I can be my alter ego(s). Lola is but one of a few gaming gals in my repertoire. Natalia is another cool cat who plays gin rummy like a fiend. I think I might be a boy next. Only on line. With strangers. Playing cards. Nothing crazy. Don’t worry.
Kevin hits the ground running. First stop check the bank. By some stroke of luck, he has funds available. He withdraws his max at the atm so that he can get started on his exit strategy before the branch opens and he closes his account. He has a few small nagging debts to clear up that will also help his conscience. Taking money from those who had it to spare was one thing, but scamming a poor soul was not his style. Except in dire straits. Today he would pay restitution.
He would leave the car return until the bitter end. It was so convenient having wheels and these were the cream of the crop. He could get used to these if he was sticking around. Where he was going wheels were not a requirement. His car buddy took the old beater in exchange for the use of the Audi and a few bucks. Once he finished his running around he could take back the loaner and Uber it to the airport. Easy.
Making the few pit stops was a bit of an emotional roller coaster. He was actually giving up his North American life for good. His final chapter would play out in the sun and sand. He figured he had a few more good years to make some bucks and then he’d be able to coast forever. Sailing into the sunset. Literally. Would he miss the comforts of familiarity he wondered? The people he knew (who he’d now be flush with and back in good graces), his favourite haunts, memories were flooding into his daydream. Then he jolted into the present when his phone buzzed. It was her. A gooey message. He tapped a quick reply with a few of those stupid emojis she liked. Yup. Time to get the hell out. He was so done with clingy pathetic broads that sucked the life out of him. Sayonara.
She lounged in bed as she typed a quick text to a Kevin. Basking in the warmth of the bed linens and thinking how great it was to have someone to share her bed with! And even better that he was so driven with business that he had to leave town for a few days every week! It was the perfect set up. She could have her cake and eat it too. She would have lingered a bit longer but she was hungry. Boy, having a wicked hangover sure did play havoc with the appetite. Time to get a coffee and get on the phone. There was so much to tell!! She could feel an engagement coming on. Dr and Mrs had a great ring to it. Ring. Oh yes! She’d start shopping today. Bling! Her most favourite thing!
Empty coffee cup in hand she wandered back into the kitchen for a refill. Why weren’t her friends overjoyed for her?? Why did they have to poke holes in the happiness bubble? She was always happy (at least pretend happy) for them. Oohing at their grandkids or new acquisitions or face lift. They should return the favour! What a bunch of jealous hags. Maybe it was time to rethink her circle of friends. Kevin probably had a vast network of people she would meet. They would be doing couple things. Just the thought of not being the third wheel anymore made her glow. Her single friends are totally jealous. Her married friends are thrilled; she wouldn’t be flirting with their husbands anymore. Well. At least for now. She liked the reaction she got from the guys even though her friends were less than pleased. She’d have the last laugh.
Kevin stopped in at the travel agency to pick up his paperwork for the flight later in the day. It would have been a lot easier if he was even remotely tech savvy enough to do the booking on line. But between no funds to pay with and no data plan on his cheapie phone he was hooped. He explained to the nosey twit in the travel office that his friend was dying in Central America and he needed to get there and stay indefinitely to wrap things up. Like it was any of her business. She bought the fairy tale and offered her condolences and prayers. Blah blah. Just get on with it already. No. He didn’t need travel insurance. No. He didn’t need a rental car. No. He didn’t want the emergency coverage. Finally. A printed boarding pass and itinerary in hand, he headed out of the office amidst a trail of well wishes. Sigh.
He had four hours before his flight. Just enough time to deal with the car, close the bank account and get a trak phone that he would start using in his new life. He just had to keep his current phone for a day or two until he was safely in the beach. The last thing he needed was to raise any red flags. At the bank he knew he would get hassled. So he decided to withdraw all but a few hundred dollars. They didn’t have that much cash in hand and he couldn’t travel with that much anyway. He had a new account set up by his buddy down south. He took the max in cash and put the rest on a wire transfer. When he got down south he’d make arrangements to transfer it personally. He didn’t trust anyone. Not even his pal. The bank bought the same death and dying story so it wasn’t too bad. By the time his patience ran out he would be on his way never to look back or use this bank again. Ever. Funny how when you needed money they treated you like dirt. When you had money they did headstands trying to keep it. Screw them.
At the Walmart he was stunned at the array of disposable phones. What a joke. You could totally live under the radar if you wanted to and still be connected. Technology was something that eluded Kevin except when he needed it to suit his purpose. Then he was able to quickly learn just enough to get the job done. Okay. That was easy. New phone. New life. One less tether.
His buddy at the car lot wanted to jerk him around about the price for the beater. They’d agreed on a price but he was trying to renege. What a piece of work. Kevin would have been all over a good haggling session but time was not on his side. He agreed to the lower price and made a mental note to get even. Knowing that the likelihood of him making good on the grudge was slim. Moving on. He used his old phone one last time to get an Uber. It was actually happening. He was checking out. Could he hold on to his excitement until he was in the air? He would have to.
She puttered around the house talking to herself in a loud voice. She always talked to herself when she needed to debate things. Her friends had given their input. Mostly negative. The usual warnings: he’s moving to fast; you don’t know him well enough; there’s something fishy; he’s too perfect; it’s not going to last. What? Too perfect?? That’s right ladies. I found him. The real thing. Perfect in every way. Eat your hearts out. That’s a great shade of green on you. She argued with herself for some time before she felt a crack in the veneer of the perfect glossy shell of her new life. Just text him and put your mind at ease. So she did. Not too gushy. Not too desperate. Just a quick hello. With a few emojis.
Uber is on its way. A silver dodge mini van. Been Ubering for three years. Great reviews. Awesome. But who cares. Just get me to the airport. Phone buzzes. A quick glance. It’s her. Oh god. He better respond one last time. But not too quickly. He didn’t want to encourage a conversation. He’d ditch the phone at the gate just before he boarded. What a crazy broad. She was so insecure and needy. Here comes the van. Saved by the mini van. Ok. Here we go.
She sent the text and waited. Maybe he was in a meeting. Or out for a lunch. Or he was ignoring her. Or lunch was with someone else. Another woman. Or …. STOP! You’re being ridiculous. He’s been gone only since this morning. It’s barely afternoon. Go clean the bathroom. Go shopping. Anything. But stop obsessing!
The airport was jammed. Where were all these people going? Thankful that his Uber was not a chatterbox the short drive was peaceful. He needed to gather his thoughts. Check in was pleasant. It’s been a while since he’s flown anywhere but his last recollections were of angry uptight counter staff and moody security attendants. So far so good today. His gate was packed. The first leg of the trip was to a US hub. Then a plane change to the final destination. He found a single seat in the gate lounge and thought about his reply text. He started typing. Then deleted. He didn’t want to sound like he was saying goodbye. He didn’t know how to thank her for the new life he was getting at her expense. So he decided on a brief, loving message. I love that you’re thinking about me. It’s making it harder to do my job. See you in a couple of days. I can’t wait. Emojis.
Now boarding…..
Ding! See?!?! He totally loves you … stop worrying for nothing.
Kevin wanted nothing more than high tail it out of there now. But he knew there might be a delay at the bank. Those damn banks were always putting the screws to people because they could. He’d have to keep a cool head for one more day. Hopefully she’d wake up with a huge hangover and he could escape for a few hours. He might as well get a good sleep while he could. The couch was making it easy for him as he leaned his head back.
As predicted, she was fast asleep when he crept into the room in the wee hours. She was snoring softly as he slid into bed beside her and carefully got under the covers. After an hour of lying quietly and enjoying the silence he slowly rolled over and nuzzled her ear. She mumbled and groggily turned over. He took the cue and got up. Might as well do a coffee run and grab the paper. As soon as the bank opened he’d be in the door. Coffee hit the spot and brought him back into focus. After a quick shower he hastily jotted a note. See you soon; running errands. Sleep well xo. Leaving the note on her side table under a fresh can of Diet Coke.
His trip to the bank was better than expected. It so happened that the draft was drawn on account from the same branch. What were the odds? So without a huge hassle he was able to deposit the funds and get away with a one day hold instead of the usual 5 to 7. What a scam those banks fad going on keeping everyone’s money in limbo for days while they manipulated it to score points for themselves. And charge you for the privilege to boot. Legalized theft. He hated banks. They knew how to kick a guy hard when he was down. After the hold came off he’d be able to wire transfer the balance to his other accounts and start the unwinding process. He had a few people to piece off and the rest was all his. He started the calls to settle some scores first thing tomorrow. One more day. 25 hours. He could taste the ocean breeze.
She woke with a pounding headache and a mouth full of cotton balls. What was she thinking?? He might just be repulsed enough to kick her to the curb. Why did she have to guzzle so much wine? She was on top of the world and her life was looking peachy. Just happy and relaxed enough to enjoy the vino. Ugh. She peeked out through hesitant slits to eye the clock. Oh my god. It’s almost noon? And no Kevin. She notices the soda at her bedside and gratefully inhales a few giant gulps. And there’s a note. Squinting she reads it feeling hangover bile rising. Oh. He’s out for a bit. Thank god. She had some time to get herself together. She felt like hell. Great start to the rest of her life.
Kevin picked up hangover helper. Nothing like a McDonald’s fix to quench a headache. He returned with the goods to find her hunched over a re-heated coffee in the kitchen. Hey, he says, rubbing her back. Here’s a cure for you. He hands her the fast food bag and drink. She glances up at him looking like a cross between a teenager waiting their punishment and an eager puppy. Pathetic. Kevin kisses the top of her head and tells her he enjoyed meeting her friends and hoped he fit in and passed their screening tests. She tries to laugh but pain stops it short in her throat so she nods. Wow. She’s really hung. He tells her he has to make a few more calls but by the time she’s done eating he will be back and they can play hooky. Cuddle up and watch some of her shows. Her pick. He’s prepared to stomach some bad tv to get the job done.
She’s relieved and exhausted. How could she be so stupid? As she wolfed down the burger like she hadn’t eaten in a week, she started to get emotional thinking how great Kevin was. So understanding and kind. He even knew how to treat her hangover. She must have blurred that out during one of their talks? She couldn’t remember. Who cares anyway. The burger was doing the trick and they could spend the afternoon lounging. No better way to pamper yourself. Hair of the dog. Without more booze. She scolded herself again and swore off wine for ever! Well. Ok. Maybe a few days.
The afternoon was leisurely. TV and junk food and napping. Kevin’s phone was vibrating nonstop in his pocket. No doubt some of the calls coming back from messages he’s left earlier. He didn’t want to keep checking but the thought that the bank could still manage to mess up his plans was in the back of his mind. Like a nagging voice hitting a nerve. A couple of washroom breaks and kitchen replenishing trips were his cover. Not that wino would notice. Clearly her hangover was evaporating by the way she was laughing and talking to the tv. Like she was alone and had split personalities. She was a piece of work.
They agreed that Chinese take out for dinner and an early night would be the game plan. Both wanting to get through this day unscathed and gave a fresh start. Kevin had told her he cancelled his meetings so he could spend the day with her while she recuperated (awwww, how totally sweet and thoughtful) but he’d have to make up for it the next couple of days. He would jam his schedule for three days out of town and he back for the weekend totally at her service. What would she like to do? Her wish was his command. They both nod off to sleep with pleasant thoughts.
Kevin is up first as usual and gets ready in record time. He almost feels sorry for her as she sleeps in bliss. By the time the weekend comes and she’s wondering where he is, he will be long gone. Hasta la vista, baby. One of his calls yesterday was confirmation of his flight. All he needed to do was free up the cash to pay off his credit card. The bank froze his card months ago and allowed him to keep it as a prepaid visa. Of course getting extra interest and service fees. Bastards. He’d sort that out then make a few pit stops to pay the pipers. Keep everyone happy and hoping for more. He was good for it right? Then take the car back to his buddy’s lot. Then sayonara. His plan was set time to put the wheels in motion.
He leans over sleeping beauty and kisses her ear. Softly whispering that he loves her and will see her as soon as possible. Enjoy the day and he will call later. She murmurs acknowledgment and air kisses back. She rolls over as he slips out the room. Out of the house. Out of her life.
She dashes madly around her place getting ready for Kevin’s return. Hiding the junk food wrappers and empty Diet Coke cans in the recycling bin and decluttering the kitchen counters just in time as she hears the car pull up. She opens the front door to see the exquisite machine and Kevin unfolding his tall body from the driver seat. She can’t conceal her excitement and cheerfully calls out a welcome home and nice ride greeting. Kevin forces a winning smile and inwardly groans. He heads up to the door and a beaming welcome. Ugh.
He leans in for a quick kiss only to be met with an intimate and long kissing embrace. He can tell she’s more fired up than usual and hopes it’s for all the right reasons. He can do this. He holds her hand as they cross the threshold and he tells her how much he missed her. Do they have time for a quick drink before heading to Karen’s for dinner? Yes. Let’s have a drink and chat before we go. Drinks poured and sitting at the tiny kitchen island she gets a look on her face. She’s wrestling with some thoughts; he waits for her to start.
Small talk is her forte he has discovered. He’s never really met anyone as adept at talking about nothing for extended periods of time. Her favourite topics are golf and her current list of tv shows. But tonight she’s asking about him and his business trip. He confesses that it’s tiring and he’s glad to be back home. She likes that; “home” with her. Ok she’s ready to spill her words after a few good gulps of wine.
He watches her intently as she gathers her thoughts and courage. She decides to rip of the band aid quickly and her words tumble out in a quick barrage. She knows they’ve just met but she feels a complete connection. Me too he adds for encouragement. She continues with her desire to take their relationship to the next level. She wants to convey her trust and commitment by investing in his venture. Ok he says, we are on the same page; what did you have in mind. The relief is visible on her face; her shoulders relax and she continues. I have a draft made out to you to invest in the business; she reaches for an envelope and a small box. Here’s the cheque and a good luck charm. He accepts the box and the envelope.
He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a small tidily wrapped package. Let’s exchange good luck charms; I can’t get over how in sync we are. Two pieces of the same puzzle. She swoons as he leans in for a kiss. They unwrap their gifts. His a tacky coffee mug that says “I love your smile” with a grinning dog photo. Hers a pair of earrings; she gushes and immediately puts them on replacing the gawdy baubles she was wearing. They kiss again and she implores him to open the envelope. He does carefully, trying not to shake. He looks at the beautiful digits on the draft and glances up to meet her eager face. There are no words. She’s smitten and he’s counting his lucky stars. And the time he has left to carry on the charade.
Off they go to Karen’s in his loaner car. He explains that his car is still waiting for parts but the dealer loaned him a similar model in the mean time. She’s settled into the passenger seat clearly feeling like royalty. And giddy from the pre-dinner activities. Karen is a quick drive away and some easy banter and music pass the time quickly. She tries to fill him in on who will be there but his mind is already on the beach. A million miles away. He’d like to tell her to shut up but holds his tongue. Almost Scott free.
Karen lives in a nice suburban home with her husband and dog. The home is nicely lit and looks inviting as they approach the door. They brought wine and a small hostess gift. Karen opens the door to greet them and alluring aromas waft in her wake. Smells delicious they both say simultaneously and then look at each other and laugh. Perfect. The stage is set.
They enter the house and two other couples are already inside enjoying drinks and appetizers. The introductions are made. Everyone seems nice and they chatter excitedly as they give him the once over. He expected as much. He’s there to meet the standards of her friends and they will scrutinize him in every way. Karen asks him to help her in the kitchen and he trails behind her telling her how lovely her home is and how much the delicious aromas are affecting his appetite. He knows the ladies enjoy the compliments. Karen is playing more appetizers and hands him a bottle of wine to open. So your the Prince Charming whose swept my girl off her feet. Well, he says, she’s done the same for me. It’s been a wonderful whirlwind. Totally unexpected but welcome. She’s a terrific lady and I’m grateful to have found her.
That did the trick. Karen mellowed immediately and the conversation took a welcome turn to local news and the proposed downtown development. A lively discussion ensued with the group being almost evenly split on the topic. It was time to relocate for dinner and everyone took their seat at the dining table. Karen was a tremendous hostess and set a table that was simply gorgeous. When the first dish was served it was apparent that the fare tasted as good as it smelled. Course after course was scrumptious and everyone’s compliments lit up Karen’s face. By the time dessert and coffee were served they were all sated. It was, all in all, a very productive evening. Now all he had to do was perform for one more night. By this time tomorrow he would be on his way.
They said their good byes and promised to gather again soon. The usual “it was great to meet you” were exchanged and cars pulled away. Karen and her husband waved us off from the front porch and turned to walk inside as we backed out.
They loved you! She was gushing fuelled by too much wine and emotion. She rambled on in mostly incoherent bursts and run on sentences until we arrived back at her place. With any luck she will just pass out when we get to bed. And that’s exactly what happened. Boom. Out like a light. A good opportunity to have himself a private celebratory drink and plan his next moves. He could move his timelines up significantly now that his financial house was in order. In fact even better than he had hoped. He had enough money extra to buy a small fishing rig. A sigh of relief and contentment escaped his lips. His ship was coming in.
I remember the catchy Neil Sedaka pop tune well. I can hum it in my head and know most of the words. It popped into my mind yesterday as I consciously uncoupled with Facebook. They say people have their social media platform of choice. Donald Trump likes Twitter, for example. Certain professionals like LinkedIn. Instagram is entertaining. Etc etc. My choice go to was Facebook.
Not anymore.
In the beginning it was hilarious and interesting and disturbing (an entire rainbow of feelings actually) to reconnect with people that have crossed your path in life. The older you are the more people you’ve met and the more “friends” you could accumulate by request. You could see all stages of your life in the icons of your friends. Hundreds of them. Some you haven’t laid eyes on in dozens of years.
Then you could spend hours “trolling and scrolling” through their photos and posts. Like a creepy stalker or voyeur. You’d think to yourself: wow. They look good (or bad). Wow. They’ve done well (or not). Wow. They’ve got an interesting life (or not). And you wonder what impression they have of you (or not). You check out their travels and other adventures and insert yourself into their spectrum. You imagine what it would be like to still be (really) connected and in touch. Instead of imaginary speculation. You see some posts and feel emotions (regret, jealousy, admiration, repulsion …) and decide to post your own to counteract. A silent (but public) protest or camaraderie.
Many things about Facebook are positive. Who doesn’t like getting hundreds of “likes” or birthday wishes. Warm fuzzies right?? Seeing grandkids or other joyful pictures. Cute puppies and baby elephants. Yummy recipes. Local events. All good positive social interactions.
But then there’s the dark side.
Sales gimmicks. The “friend” who’s hocking their wares relentlessly. Every two seconds. You name it you can buy it. Facebook has become the buy/sell forum for everything. With the addition of “marketplace “ you can search for things you really need: candles, oils, tools, clothes, cleaning products, spices … More junk. But that’s by choice. The endless blasts from “friends” on your feed is nauseating. God forbid you like a post or comment on their regular posts .. now you’ve opened the door to a discussion. And when you don’t interact appropriately you get the definitive “I’ll PM you!” Ugh.
The Tipsters. These friends have a tip for everything. The stuff you can do with apple cider vinegar! Hacks for peeling garlic or getting bird poop off your car. Straightening your hair, teeth, finances, mother, insurance …. DIY everything with a QTip. You too can be Macgyver. You can also be Warren Buffet. Adele. Betty Crocker. Martha Stewart. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Pick an icon and find a hack video. If you can endure the pop ups inserted every 3 seconds.
The Hipsters. These friends go way beyond tree hugging. They are planet do-gooder junkies. They post infinite articles and pictures (largely out of context or out of touch) of global indiscretions. Public shaming for all kinds of crimes against humanity. In constant search of the cause célèbre that is the viral trend of the day. Hopping on and off bandwagons at will. A dizzying merry go round of causes.
The provocateurs. These friends will pick an argument over anything. Their “threads” are often more hilarious when you check on their adversaries and can see they are obviously fake people. Really? Fake Facebook profiles?? Yes. It’s a thing. Engaging in a virtual argument is the most ridiculous undertaking. Think about it. No one wins. You might get a like or two. Big deal.
The lost dogs. I can’t believe the number of lost, stolen, abused dogs. Seriously. It’s staggering the amount of dogs (and all animals for that matter) who go missing. What??? And people (like me) who share to be helpful only to have another friend point out that the post is 3 years old or the dog has been reunited or the post was faked to annoy an ex. Whoa. Way too much research required.
The thinly veiled jabs. Ok. You’re passed off. Hurt. Embarrassed. Pick a feeling. So you find a meme that feeds into your emotion meter and post. Some of them are thought provoking while others are annoying and even pathetic. “I have the best daughter in the world …. like and share if you do too….. “. “Your real friends are still there even you can’t see them. “ please. It’s the ones that deliver a hidden (or not) meaning that you know us going to be seen by the person you intended … totally passive aggressive. Sad as it’s usually mom/daughter. Or girlfriend/girlfriend. Publicly putting your shit out there. I’m grateful my mom doesn’t own a digital device. I don’t think she even knows about Facebook. “I’m blessed”.
The guilters. These are the internet money launderers. For a worthy cause of course. It was genius (in a nefarious way) for Facebook to help you set up a donation scheme for your birthday. Seriously. Gross. Never mind the ongoing stream of “Go Fund Me” for everything. It’s so blatant and pervasive I think somewhere in the deep recesses a percentage funnels back to Hilary Clinton and her diabolical foundation.
The politicos. This has gotten to be the biggest scourge on line and like an out of control weed on Facebook. It’s social … everyone knows the golden rule of social engagement: no politics or religion. Find a group of like minded people and have at it. You’re not going to sway a political discussion on Facebook. You just alienate and annoy. Whether you like Trump/Trudeau/Putin/Ford/teachers union whoever or not, you’re not changing someone’s allegiance via a snarky post. Or cruel/funny meme. In fact your propaganda is making the opposition dig in more. The very divisiveness you’re berating you’re also perpetuating. Ironically.
The hacksters. Don’t accept another friend request ….I’ve been hacked. Who gets hacked and why? I’m not friends with anyone worth the effort of hackers in my opinion. Hackers and scammers are in the same pile of dung in my view. We’ve all seen the dire warnings of posting vacation photos … you’ll let every criminal know your house is up for grabs. Virtually casing the joint; how clever. Crooks will always find the slimy loophole and slither through it. And don’t forget to copy and paste the instructions on how to trick the Facebook algorithms so all 300 of your friends can be visible. Really??
The optimists. Share this heart for all the moms and dads in heaven. Like and share the pile of money and more will come your way. Pray for first responders/dog walkers/fishermen/ retail clerks/ ….. pick one. You’re a cruel heartless beast if you don’t like and share the puppy/starving child/ koala in the forest fire/ nurse doing her job. The motivational memes are abundant, but motivation is in the eye of the beholder: good things come to those who work hard for them? Or who sign the change.org petition for increasing financial benefits or bail outs? Or who share the post?
Corona. It’s the frenzy to beat all frenzies. Whether you are in the hysterical shut the world down or the conspiracy theory or the “this doesn’t apply to me anyway” camp there’s fodder for you on Facebook. All of the categories previously mentioned above are now firmly ensconced in the feeding frenzy. Sellers are hocking every prophylactic you need to stay safe. Tipsters are letting you in on every safety hack for your family. The politicos can’t finger point fast enough or frequently enough. Fake news is rampant. Facebook has become a portal for insanity and fear and illogical thinking. Once informative groups are now snitch lines for neighbours against neighbours. Talk about a rabbit hole!
So I’m out. I’m breaking up with Facebook and most mass media. Ignorance is bliss after all.
My real “friends” will know exactly how to find me. Peace out.
Retiring at the Speed of Life 