Things I Wish I Could Do Now (keeping in mind that, as seniors,  we're expected to stay home)

• Spend a whole day, in my bedroom, by myself, and not feel it might hurt Dave
• Pick up a book that I haven't already read
• Stop thinking about bread instead of real food
• Remember something that I used to be able to cook, and have a go at it
• Stay in my nightclothes all day (just once, to see why so many people think it's the thing to do)
• Stop worrying that the haircut I gave Dave is something he's just accepted
• Watch every show from "Brooklyn99" in order
• Get new furniture that isn't brown in the "living room" 
•  Stop changing my fingernails' colour every 2nd day
• Get some of the many things I've ordered online

What I learned from my hair (no, I didn't mean "my head")

Many a year ago

Well, ever since we've been "in the house", I've talked quite a lot about turning myself into a hairdresser-on-her-own-head.  I've almost always coloured my hair myself, although it's a nice grayish colour now, and cut it my own when it was very short, which is easy, or when it was quite long over my ears.  For the most part, it worked and when it didn't I would go to the hairdresser both Dave and I get very good haircuts from. 

Today is the fifth week I've decided that I could have a better haircut, and set out to fix that. Up to yesterday, I was pleased.  Today, I forgot that I intended to live with what I had, and I allowed myself to pick up the for-hair-only scissors and have a go at the hair that covers my ears. Only one of the ears is now actually covered, neatly and mixing well with what I've done to the back.   The other hair over the ear somehow got about half an inch shorter.  

I either have to accept it, which I've done today by braiding some of the hair down the side, making my mistake seem like something I actually want, or by getting my name on the list of our hairdresser, which I'm sure is full for weeks. 

I also intend to take a course on self-esteem.

Looking backward isn't too bad

I ran into something I had written for my first Blog, and it made me laugh to see the person I was back then in 2004. It was a format that showed others what you want them to know:  Anybody want to try it?

I'm a storyteller. I'm a dancer. I'm a necromancer. Not really, but I like the rhythm of those words. Actually, I'm a retired person, still deeply in love, married with three grown children and five amazingly clever grandchildren. I'm not a believer in astrological signs, yet I love my sign: Gemini---it has such a duplicitous base. I was born in the Year of the Horse, yet have no affinity to any animal larger than a cat (or smaller than a cat) I support (with vigour) PFLAG CANADA
Interests	the arts, books, grandchildren, aging gracefully, shoes, glitter, the Orient, little elegant hikes, anti-homophobic and anti-discriminatory acts
Favorite Movies	Volver, Serenity, Zoolander, Now Voyager, Pan's Labyrinth, Eve's Bayou, Magnolia, Batman Begins, Gone Baby Gone, The Hours, Pirates of the Caribbean, Chocolat, Run Fatboy Run, shutter Island, Inception
Favorite Music	Evanescence, Aimee Mann, Danny Schmidt, Shanna and the Hawk, Ron Sexsmith, White Stripes, cello music, baroque trumpet, Meatloaf, Massive Attack, Bright Eyes, Amy Millan, Neko Case, Rufus Wainwright, kd lang, Ryan Adams, Tori Amos, Jann Arden, Ben Lee, Cry Cry Cry, Martha Wainwright
Favorite Books	The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, A Spot of Bother, Lives of the Monster Dogs, Wicked, Deafening, The Hours, His Dark Materials, Across the Nightingale Floor, The Various Haunts of Men, Marie Antoinette, Divining Women, The Book of Bunny Suicides, Peony in Love, The Harsh Cry of the Heron, Away, The Underpainter, Wings of Fire, Remembering the Bones, The Children's Book, The Gods of Gotham, Neverwhere

What was the stage name of your favorite actress before she was born?

Undine Undead

Did she leave a decent tip?

Here it is Friday.  Every two weeks, Friday evening has been the time that Robyn, nine, and Maddy, sevenish come with their mom for dinner and a sleepover.

After dinner, usually made by Dave and Emily, the girls would have a bath in our good-sized tub, and we would work out a drama about them, their careers in the food business and their newly-bought in-the-tub restaurant.  I would come in as their first diner, and they'd tell me how crazy it was in the kitchen but nevertheless, I, as a person who had (sigh!!) to work all over the world, would be given the best table and offered a glass of wine.  

At this point, I would tell them where I had been travelling for the last week, and what I had eaten there.  This was their clue to tell me about the special meal which consistently turned out to be an extraordinary take-on of what I would have eaten on my trip. While I was sipping away at my wine, the manager would come out to ask me if I were pleased, and to ensure me that no matter how well I would enjoy the 5 courses, I would be knocked-out by the dessert the maitre-chef would proudly, himself, bring to my table. 

Suddenly, there would be Emily, reminding the girls that they hadn't yet washed their hair and that it was time for bed.

Wouldn't it be great if this could happen tonight?  It will be again soon, I hope.

Thursday is not my favourite day

Some things I did today inside the house, as we're the kind of people who do what they're told:

• decided that I would pass the day wearing my beautiful purpley-blue dress from Sri Lanka (thanks Asith) and found the right earrings for it
• went through my large basket of nail polish, which I only use on my thumbs, due to a lack of commitment, and discovered I only had two colours I really liked 
• grabbed a book that I've been eager to read, sat down with my coffee, read about 10 pages and realized I'd read it a couple of months ago (it was a really good book; no wonder I was keen)
• browsed through the small recipe box, looking for something I felt like making; reminded myself I don't like to cook 
• had a 45-minute phone call with my sister in Calgary; found things in Alberta are about the same as here
• stood at the window, hoping to see a face that didn't look like Dave's, as much as I love him (feeling kind of shabby about this)
• walked through the house 15 times, following a route that covers as much of our apartment as possible (from the front window, across our living room, dining area into the kitchen, turn out from the kitchen, into each bathroom and the front hall, into our bedroom and back out) missing nothing
• took five minutes to congratulate myself
• found a chocolate bar I'd forgotten about, put back the dish of chips and poured me a glass of wine
• having realized I was kind of enjoying things, I immediately fixed that as I started sorting the clothes in the laundry box , hoping we still had some of the laundry strips I've fallen in love with
• chocolate and wine are winning, not that I ever really believed something else might happen

Stay well!

Raise Your Right Hand, Ms

I knew it was going to happen.

I just didn't think it would be so soon that I would give in to the lack of excitement and cut my hair.  It's still wet, so no photo.

However, it has made me take up thinking.  Again, sooner than I expected.  I have had enough sort-of success cutting my own hair in the past so I felt pretty much that a sort-of success would be OK.

It made me think of two haircut experiences, not on my own hair, that I've obviously pushed way to the bottom of my brain.

One included my sister Mary who is 17 years younger than I am and who allowed me to give her a cut that I'd seen in a magazine.  We sat her on a kitchen stool and pulled her hair up to high on the top-of-her-head elasticized position, then cut off all the hair above the elastic.  You can imagine......actually, I hope I'm still only imagining.  Given that I love my sister sincerely, it's hard to believe I actually did it.

The other focusses on my youngest daughter, Emily. I always cut her hair from the time her platinum blonde first became real to us.  Because it was very thin hair at the time, I thought I could make it sort of pixie-like, and shaggy, and had been doing it for a year or two when one of my gay friends begged me to show some respect for her.  He cried the next time he saw her, 6 months later.

I now and officially beg forgiveness from the two of them.

Lorna Vs Nature

I have never felt I had much interest in nature, and today, I got a chance to see that Nature knew that and intended to reminder me who is boss.

I really felt I should go out for a walk, and remembering that since yesterday, we had had sunshine, rain, more sunshine and snow, I dressed warmly, put on my boots that have little spikes when I need them and headed out from our patio, so I wouldn't have to worry about using the same door that all our other residents will be using, if they go out.

I took about 5 steps, arrived at the place where the lawn leans down to the still-snowy sidewalk, and with my next step, I landed on my back, bumping my head, and slid down about 5 feet to the sidewalk.  For some reason, I thought this was hilarious and I lay there laughing for a minute, then got up, uselessly tried to get the snow off my clothes and headed for the War Museum, which is part of my short walks.  There were a lot of geese there, but no people, so it was pleasant, but getting cold.

By  the way, anyone who knew me before the last 10 years or so, would have been gobsmacked to see that I was wearing warm clothes, not pretty ones, including mittens that would be just the right size for a wrestler.

I had my walk, never saw a person, and headed for home.  By then,  more snow had landed, so I decided to be more careful and got off the sidewalk at the part of the building that was easily reached from the sidewalk....a step or two.  Two steps that left me lying down, this time with my face and knees in the new snow, and there I was again laughing hilariously, but this time, just pissed off a bit. 

I got back in the house with no further excitement, expecting that Dave might baby me a bit, but he just reminded me to be sure to hang my wet stuff .

Not even two dark chocolates and a handful of cashews have brought me back to the sentiments I was hoping for.  And I have a headache. Nature 1, Lorna 0.

How time flies!

So, here I am, on a Sunday morning, and I've put on spring clothes for the first time this year, and I've brushed my hair, and in an hour or so, I'll be watching my daughter Emily leaving a song or two on Facebook.

It's not easy to remember how different things are when you're in your own apartment, able to have conversations with people who are farther away than a condo balcony and yet dealing with the fact that you can't just zoom out and buy a chocolate bar at the neighbourhood chocolate bar place. Ah, I shouldn't make that nice neighbourhood store sound like there's nothing but chocolate there, although I actually can't confirm it or deny it, as chocolate is all I've ever bought there.

Earlier, I had a strange discussion with myself about whether or not to add mascara to my strangely-inefficient-recently-smoothed-on-my-face make-up.  In the end, I went for it, telling myself that I'm a mascara person and have been so since I was 16 and some virus isn't going to make me give that fun up. Almost right away, other-me jumped up to remind me that really, I do that for myself, so I can't expect Dave to notice improved eyelashes. (Dave, you know that I sometimes write what I think is amusing rather than what is real)

Today, our daughter Emily is going to post a musical something she and her partner will perform on Facebook, and it's reminded me of how much she and I sang together one spring, sitting together in the car, getting her ready to prove she should be in the music class the next year.  As it turned out, she took dance, but that seemed like a possibly great decision, and it would have been if she hadn't left school to become a Starbucks person.  All to say that she still loves music and I love to hear her make it, and instead of Starbucks, she works for the Canadian Museum of History. "Too much babbling!!!" Emily is thinking, I imagine.  And it wouldn't be

the first time.....

Hey, she's not in my face!!.

Some reasons why I've not been in your face lately:

• First, and worst, I'm having trouble remembering words, real trouble, both when I'm talking and when I'm writing, although it's somewhat easier while writing because I can ask for help or use Google and anyone reading assumes it's just like me talking
• Also, I have difficulty accepting this. And because no one else is part of the trouble, I only have myself to be pissed off with
• I am a person, when faced with difficulty, to choose to either give something up or to take a deep breath and do my best---nothing in between
• I've been doing the second of those things, but not succeeding as much as I'd expected

Some reasons why I'm going to make an effort to be in your face, but of course, in the rather "Gosh, nothing's changed" way, which means I have to be subtle:

• First, and worst, I've already told you that I'm having trouble so I can't choose to pretend nothing is going on
• Also, I've stepped back from seeing people as much as I used to, and even though I've always loved to be with people, I don't have the confidence I once felt. I'd like to change that
• Dave has been so understanding and so thoughtful that I'm starting to believe I owe him so much more than I'll ever be able to make things even again

I don't have a "program" to follow, at least not yet, but I'm feeling that just writing this has been a step forward.  

Keep an eye out for me.

Why Purdy's is necessary

You may have noticed that I complain a lot about my relationships with anything techy.  For example, the lovely-looking Chromebook, which when we were considering to buy it was complimented by everyone with whom we discussed it, has actually taken over the process in which it will work.  And that has no connection to the way it lets Dave use it or any one else.  As I type, it decides I'm on the wrong page and leaves the one I'm on, without my request, and opens up Facebook or something I've never seen before in the 20 or so years I've been online.

I respond in several different ways, most of them falling in the "emotional" kind of thing which ranges from deep breath to nasty not-for-kids yelling while I walk away to another part of the condo.  (I just had to move words that I'd typed in a

reasonable way which the laptop decided to do this with it) and then it just laughed at me and moved those words 3 blank lines away from where I typed them. I moved them back.  So there!

I need to be able to be online, so I'll continue to work this out



But seriously...I did nothing to get from "out" to this place.  The Chromebook did it.

Actually, I intended to talk about the ways I am trying to just accept what happens between me and laptops and phones and Kindle.  I'm a retired person and if it takes me 3 times more as anyone else to write a post, I'll live with that, rather than act like a whiny kid.  However, after I got part way through the last sentence, Chromebook sent me to my Inbox.

All this to say that I have the box of Purdy Chocolates that my son sent for Christmas within arm's reach, and that I added a small fountain to my desk, and the sound is lovely and serene, which is what I'd like to attain for myself. Techy be damned.