family, friends

Mom’s ceramics

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We found Mom’s ceramics.  Two were in a cabinet in the living room, and one was stored away in a cabinet.  Here they are.

Long ago, when I was a kid living in BC, Mom went to a ceramics class.  She didn’t mould these.  They came pre-made.  But she painted them.

The salesperson represented Glenn who apparently, at the time, sold corn (or maybe eggs) along the street where we lived.  The musician represented me as I apparently had musical skills.  The girl in pink was to represent Angela who apparently had no qualities or talent aside from being a girl.  (A person cooking or dancing might have been more appropriate.)

I had no idea that Mom had painting talents.  I knew she wrote songs long ago and may have had them published and played professionally if the old man had shelled out a little to get it started.

So now they sit in our cabinet.

Glenn’s birthday

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Aizlynn called me, thinking of Glenn’s birthday.

We talked for a bit about dentistry (root canals, extracted teeth, and implants), Glenn (his life, his death, and things between), and pierogies (in England, they don’t have pierogies, but the closest thing they have is filled with strawberry!).

Glenn has been gone 10 years.

Veronica & Jane

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I just met a woman from Ireland named Veronica.  She was standing in the town square in Basingstoke, UK near a statue of Jane Austen.  How’s that?

I video called my sister via WhatsApp.  When she answers, she was talking to a friend of hers on the street and introduced me.  I showed Veronica the snowy landscape in Lethbridge, just outside my windows.  It just so happened that we’ve had about a foot (30cm) of snow.  She was quite amazed.  Aizlynn showed the town square, a quaint, picturesque place.  There is a statue of the writer, Jane Austen, nearby.  We read some plaques on the ground showing bits of into.

Aizlynn & Caleb were on their way out to supper, so off they went.

Mary’s TD passbooks

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I wrote an email, last known address, to Mary telling her of my Mom’s TD account set up for her long ago.  The email bounced back.

Too many unfortunate events in the world, powered by lies, greed, pride, selfishness.

Sadness.

FT’s road trip, house #2, new fridge

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FT is on the road again, on a trek to Saskatchewan with TF.  So I’m on my own now for two weeks.  Nothing wrong with two old guys rattling across the prairies in a Pontiac.  They went last year, making this a now annual event.

This leads me to my next topic – travel.  I haven’t gone anywhere this year.  I’ve been working on the rental properties and the teardrop trailer, working only half days the past few weeks because of the heat.  Since Floyd’s leg started acting up, I’ve decided to take it easi(er).

The plumbing for the rear suite (formally called the garage) at house #2 is now complete.  It passed inspection just yesterday.  It is still a garage for now as there is still a bay door in it.  But that will soon disappear.  Next task: framing interior walls.

On my way back from trying to pay the Gutter Shop for work to be done at house #2 (turns out they closed down their storefronts, and Google hasn’t caught up to it), I stopped at Starbucks for a cup.  Nice day for a coffee in a shady outdoor area.

I bought a new fridge a week ago, and it finally arrived yesterday.  It’s a Whirlpool 18 cu. ft. freezerless fridge.  The problem is, it has to go back.  The fridge door is not reversible!  I haven’t seen a fridge with no reversible door for ages.  So I called, and they’re sending someone in the next few days to bring it back.  So I ask you, why would they make a fridge that 50% of the population cannot use?

Their explanation is that it is stainless steel.  …  What?  What the heck does that have to do with it?  I thought and have come to the assumption that people who want stainless steel fronts do not want extra holes with plugs in them.  There aren’t many fridges out there without freezers, so pickings are slim.  In the mean time, FT has opted for a normal fridge with freezer at the bottom.

the nuts-and-bolts of life (or, waste naught, want naught)

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As mundane a task this is, I’m sorting through Father’s bizarre method of consumable hardware storage.  He, presumably like most of the population, just threw a machine screw, washer, or nut into a coffee can until which time, days, months, or years later, he would fish through the container to find the right size, material, thread type, and grade of hardware.

My way of dealing with his legacy is “fixing” it.  No, I don’t mean that in a terrible way.  Just that, to gain independence from our parents, we have to sort through stuff and make determinations of what they want to keep or abandon of the legacy left to them.  This is not just physical things, but ideals, habits, beliefs, etc.

My belief is that I should walk up to a container of organized smaller containers that are organized further until they become unique and usable items.  I should be able to stretch out my arm, read a label (mach 1/4″ med or quarter-inch, medium thread machine screws) and pick the length I want.  In the same bin, I want to pick a nut that is the right size to fit it.

I do not want to sit there in a shop, dump a bucket of rusted shit onto a table, and sort through it all to find that something doesn’t exist.  That’s horse shit.  As Trevan Wong would say, Remember the Seven Ps – Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.

So, this is my statement to the Old Man – thanks for leaving your shit for me to clean up.  I will continue to be my father’s son and do those duties.  The Book itself says to honour your parents.  And that’s damn well what I’m going to do!  This is my version of it.