Gate Keeper

Epilepsy walks with me 

using the same feet that 

carry the rest of my body.

To understand that was not easy. 

Epilepsy was in my brain. 

Take a pill and seizures will 

stop being unpredictable.

Slowly, awkwardly, I learned 

that life with epilepsy had 

to become a relationship.

A relationship of respect.

Not mutual, but very much

my own responsibility

To understand that was not easy.

Epilepsy is in my brain,

without its own intelligence.

So I am its gate keeper.

“This is your life. You are responsible for it. 

You will not live forever. Don’t wait.”

~ Natalie Goldberg

Chapter Two, Episode 146 - Side by Side - Situationally Theirs

“Dez, where are we going to live?” Matt had been so silent all day. They both had been silent. Only a word or two as they worked clearing up her sister’s orchard. It was hard work, picking up windfall apples, mowing between the rows of trees, weeding where the mower had missed. No time for conversation. To herself, she had been wondering the same thing. It didn’t seem right that he would move over here. He had his life on his farm. Her’s was here in the duplex that she rented from Martha. It seemed transient even to her. She hadn’t been living out of a suitcase but it felt temporary. She’d lived in so many temporary places. When she was young, it was just part of her life and many times exciting. Over the years, each place felt like it could be home until there was some upheaval in her life. When the pandemic took over everyone’s lives, she had almost been homeless if it hadn’t been for her sister. Estranged for a decade, neither had expected it to last, but had to at least until the pandemic was over. It was a struggle, but they had managed. They had more than managed, but restored and repaired their relationship. Em was remarried and had taken ownership of the Estate as she hadn’t prior to the lockdown. But Dez thought, she didn’t mind that she still felt like a wanderer. Until now. She and Matt were a couple. She’d had boyfriends over the years, been a single more times than not, but with Matt it was different. Dez pulled a particularly stubborn weed out from the base of what she hoped was the last tree. It came out with such suddenness that it sat her back on her heels, landing her in the grass, wet with early evening dew. She landed with a thump, the dirt from the offending root spraying up on her face as it flipped up from the damp ground.?!” He had just turned off the trimmer when he heard her land. Throwing it down to the ground, he was over to her in two strides. She reached up, grabbed his hand. Instead of being pulled up, he slid on the wet grass and fell on top of her. They lay sprawled and laughing together, Matt’s face in the grass. He turned his head, and between gasps said “We have to get up, Dez. It’s wet down here ~ and cold.” She tried to push him away. “You’ll have to get off of me first.” Starting to get up, he turned and gently brushed the dirt from her face. “Hey beautiful, your face is dirty and your hair is a mess. We’re done for the day here, let’s go back to the house and clean you up.” She took his face in her hands. “Now we match ~ you’ve got a dirty face too.” They both shivered and held one another.

~~~~~

Hot showers and dry clothes on, they were in the kitchen having supper. There wasn’t much in the fridge but eggs, tomatoes and odds and ends of leftover meals. So scrambled eggs, warmed up sausages, tomatoes and hot coffee fit the bill for them. “Do you know the answer yet?” Matt helped himself to more eggs, got up for more coffee. “What answer?” He filled both mugs. “The one I asked you in the orchard. You don’t remember? Did the shower take everything out of your head?” Teasing her, he ruffled her still damp hair. “Remind me. I did think I heard you say something about where we would live. If that’s it, I don’t know for sure but here doesn’t seem right, and living away from the Estate doesn’t either. I have to be here to take care of not just the orchard but the bees.” Matt stirred the remains of his eggs around. “What kind of an agreement do you have with your sister? About the orchard?” Dez didn’t have to think long. “Just a verbal agreement. We talked about getting something on paper but never did. I don’t want to give it up, It’s the first big thing I’ve ever been responsible for and I really like working with the trees, and learning about the bees.” She grew quiet. “I may not own it like you own your farm, but it is mine. Em says she’s never cared much about the orchard. ‘it’s just there’. I really want to keep up my commitment to her. It’s important to both of us.” 

Matt cleared the dishes from the table, putting them in the sink. His silence bothered Dez. This was the first time they’d really talked about the Beaufort orchard, her commitment to her sister and her time. When she had taken it on, getting into a relationship had not been on her mind. How could she juggle both of them, and be a good partner with Matt? Getting married was not as easy at it seemed when he had been down on one knee. Matt had had relationships previously, in fact had divorced only two years prior. He had two sons who counted on their dad’s home. It was their family home. They seemed to like and get along with Dez, but how would they feel if she became their stepmother? He still had his own orchard and apiary to look after. A much larger operation, it supported his sons, paid his alimony and paid his bills. “Looks like we can’t give up either one, Dez. Does Em pay you? Do you have an income from it?” Dez took a soapy wet plate from him, rinsed it and dried it. “I’ve been able to take any proceeds from the orchard and the honey for myself, Em pays for whatever the orchard and bees need from Estate funds. I have a little money from my parents when they passed, and a TFSA that I use from time to time. Living here, my bills have been limited. So, Matt, you’re right. It looks like we can’t give up either one. We’ll have to work together to maintain both properties. Can we make it work without going at each other and ruining our relationship?”

~~~~~

Cleaning up the little kitchen, checking to make sure all taps were off in the bathroom and windows closed, they turned out all but the light outside the front door. “Let’s go home.” Without saying where home was, it had been decided that home was at Matt’s farm. Here would always be a temporary place to come when it was time to take care of this property. That was a discussion for another time. If there were changes to be made, they would work together. 

~~~~~

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of 

two chemical substances:if there is any action both are transformed.”

~ Carl Gustav Jung

“Why Not?”

“Why Not?”

“Why not?”  Her head tipped to one side, she looked out at her garden. It was really only a garden in her imagination. Just a plot of earth behind their house, a big boulder in one corner. Empty nesters, she and Peter had planned to make a secret garden. Complete with a white gazebo with curtains that could be pulled down as the sun came around. Ferns and wisteria in all shades of mauve, a pool for the silent boulder. She smiled. It made her happy each time it rained to see it shining and wet. Just like it would be if……….  All their plans had been set aside. Drawings and dreams filed away. 

Constance worked and came home. Their children away in different cities. Their own lives, with their own dreams. A journalist, Peter was away; they didn’t know for how long. He was stationed half way across the world in a war zone. They talked most nights on a video chat when the internet connections were good. 

Coming from work, she’d been listening to a gardening program on the radio. She could at least have that much. Easing the car into the small garage, she deftly avoided the supplies they had started to amass. Turning the engine off she sat looking wistfully at them all. “What’s the matter with me?!” With the back of her hand she pushed wetness from her eyes. Struggling to get out of the car, she squeezed sideways, knocking precariously balanced tools to the floor, catching the trowel that was destined for the hood of the car with her one free hand. Holding her briefcase to her, she edged along the car to the door of the garage. “I’ll need clean clothes for work next week. Thank goodness it’s Friday.” 

Every night she stopped by the boulder, patted it and went into the silent house. Tonight felt different. The house was still silent, no supper on the table. There never was. Briefcase on the kitchen counter, she made a cup of coffee and just stood, thinking. “I wonder.” The kitchen computer blinked on. “Connie? Are you home yet? Connie? If you’re there, I’ve only got five minutes tonight.” Her face lit up. Glad to hear his voice, she was suddenly excited. “Five minutes? Is that all? I’ve got so much to talk with you about. It’s the garden, Peter.” He was happy to hear her excitement. He hoped she couldn’t hear the air raid sirens. “I’m in a bunker, Connie so it’s private. Tell me what’s got you all excited.” Words spilled out of her about digging the dirt, lining the pool, getting water plants, finding workmen to do what she couldn’t do, researching you-tube sites, setting stones for a path from the house, finding fish for their pond, sourcing materials. “Connie. Connie. Stop. Our five minutes are almost up. I wish I could be home to help!” She felt sick. Here she was talking all about her brilliant ideas, and her precious husband was in danger every day. She had heard the air raid sirens. “Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t let you get a word in edgewise.” She touched his face on the cold screen. He looked so tired. “Well, sweetness, I have only one thing to add.” Smiling through his exhaustion he said: “Why not?” 

“You see things; and you say ‘Why?’ But I dream 

things that never were; and I say ‘Why not?’”

~ George Bernard Shaw

A Cat Tale - Gratitude

Jet came to me one year ago this month. Scared, noisy, and bossy with stitches behind one ear and wearing the ‘cone of shame’. He didn’t know where he was, who he was with or whether he could get through the mini-blinds to freedom. Over the last twelve months both of us have settled into an understanding relationship. We have stared each other down. We have had debates about what time is chow time. He disappears in any shadow or anything black.

About gratitude on this Thanksgiving Monday? His presence, our feline/human relationship and maybe just having something other than a jade plant to care for has been remarkable. I’ve come to understand the real aloneness of living with Covid cautions and restrictions. Jet, full of personality, often charming, is my daily companion on this bumpy journey. Am I grateful that this arrogant black cat is in my life? Most definitely.

“As anyone who has ever been around a cat for 

any length of time well knows 

cats have enormous patience 

with the limitations of the human kind.”

~ Cleveland Amory, The Cat Who Came for Christmas

In the Barn

In the Barn 

Phillip snuffled and blew clouds into the winter air, pawed the snow impatient to get out of the cold. His constant companion, Emily, trotted up beside him. Prairie winters were unpredictable with driving wind and snow that often kept them in the barn. They did both liked winter, but Phillip’s joints were feeling the cold more than his young friend. He had to keep moving while they were outside and envied the energy that Emily had. He would nod his head at her as she galloped around their yard. Even that movement grew more uncomfortable as the days progressed. On the severest cold days, they were only walked around and returned to the warmth of the barn. The two young humans who cared for them always made sure they had clean blankets on, were fed and watered and their stalls cleaned out. 

“Here we are, you two. Emily, time to stop playing and come into the barn. It’s going to get too windy and much colder tonight. You know Phillip is ready to get warmed up.” 

Mischievous Emily turned away and took a run around the corral. Phillip just snorted and walked into the barn. “Let’s get you settled while my brother gets that crazy girl in here. At least you both have good heavy winter coats. She’ll let Harold bring her in when she realizes you won’t be coming out.”

Getting their horses in from the cold was much greater for the brother and sister than just doing chores. The pandemic in their community had isolated them from their school friends and any community events. Their small town had suffered too many losses of friends and some family. Early on there was a general disbelief that the virus was anything more that something that happened to other people in other places. Some didn’t even believe it existed. That is until people started falling ill and being taken into the city hospital. Some didn’t return. 

Phillip and Emily didn’t know anything about why, but they both knew that their humans seemed to walk with the night around them. A night that brightened when they were with the two horses. Emily’s teasing made them even brighter. Phillip’s step was easier when they were around. Harold and his sister, Jenny, always spent extra time with the two horses, even after all the chores were done. The strange, but comforting, relationship between the four always took the edge off of the cold.

“Horses change lives. They give our young people confidence 

and self -esteem. They provide peace and tranquility 

to troubled souls, they give us hope.”

~ Toni Robinson

Chapter One, Episode 119 - Soul Sisters - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Writing about relationships is another part of this ongoing saga. Maintaining personality differences as well as differences in types of relationships, new, old or ongoing ones, has been another interesting writing exercise to engage with. Author Stephen King says: read, read, read. It has been in this way that I learn some of the ways to accomplish this. Often at the expense of household chores! 

Soul sisters

It started with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Dez Eliot had been thinking of Matt Hamilton. His brown curls and deep brown eyes. Should she pursue him? Relationships for either of them in the past had not exactly worked out well. In the past, any relationships had been short with only one lasting a full year. Matt was newly divorced, but was he ready to jump into dating? I wonder what Emmie would say?  The thought of asking her sister for advice flashed through her mind. Once more, she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling and at the same time her sister was wondering about asking Dez for relationship advice. Laughing out loud, she knew what Emmie would say. ‘Dez. It’s your decision. How long have you known Matt? I wouldn’t have said this a few years ago, but go with your heart.’ That would have been the short answer. No, she wouldn’t ask Emmie. And she wouldn’t go with her heart. That sounded too flowery for Dez. But she would go with her gut - her gut told her ‘Go for it……carefully.’

~~~~~

It was the last day of the workshop The Care and Management of Fruit Trees. Dez had watched everyday as Matt opened the workshop. He was tanned and just absolutely fine looking to Dez. Each day, she took a chance to talk with him……about apple trees and how to take care of them. She had good reason, Dez and Emmie, reunited after a decade of estrangement in the early days of the pandemic, had formed a bond. Her sister had hired Dez as a project manager for her apple orchard. Dez knew Matt. She needed help for this project. Matt hosted a workshop. Simple. It turned out to be not so simple. Her mind wandered constantly away from how to prune and pick to whether he liked Italian, Asian or just plain food. Not that she was much of a cook, but she did know how to choose the wine for a meal. Now it was the final day. She’d have no more excuses to talk with him. At 45 years of age, she still felt like a teenager crushing on the handsomest guy in the school. 

The last session of the day was a final walking tour through Matt’s orchard. Matt called on different attendees to point out what had interested them most through the week. He asked them to indicate features of their interest on any one of the trees. When he called on Dez, her mouth felt like it had sand in it and her heart raced. Later, if asked what she had said her mind went blank, only remembering that the group applauded ‘her eloquence’. She really felt she had never been eloquent in her life. 

When everyone else had left at the end, Dez hung back: ‘to help Matt put away everything’. Finally, after he had his yard back, all the antiseptic wipes and extra masks were gone, and any evidence of the workshop were tucked up in his truck, she decided to say something. To herself she said  This is ridiculous. I like Matt and I am pretty sure we’re on the same wavelength. But I’m not sure, so here goes nothing. To Matt she said: “I’m on my way now, but I would like to invite you over for supper. Tomorrow or Sunday? It won’t be anything fancy, but you’ve put on a great Workshop and deserve a home cooked meal.” She was ready for him to say “Thanks, but no thanks.”  Her mouth opened to keep babbling when she heard him say something….. “What did you say? Tomorrow night?” She was met with a broad grin. “I’ve been watching you all week, Dez. I’ve wanted to say something to you, but never found the right time or place. You always left right after the last session.” He closed his truck's tailgate with a metallic bang. “I know we’ve known each other a few years, but you seemed different this week - in a nice way.”

~~~~~

The next night after a supper of chicken casserole and spinach salad, the two old friends did up the dishes together. He washed and she dried. When they were done and all the dishes put away, Dez poured them each a glass of the Merlot she had chosen. They went out on her balcony in the cool of the evening and just sat quietly for a long time. She finally said “Matt, I enjoyed this evening so very much. Thank you for coming.”  

He leaned on the railing looking out over the park and the city. “I enjoyed it too, Dez. I’d like us to do it again sometime soon. Talking about only apple trees or bees is getting pretty old.” 

“I have learned not to worry about love; 

But to honour its coming with all my heart.”

~ Alice Walker

Chapter One, Episode Eleven - Middling - Situationally Theirs

May 16, 2020

Review, Edit and Update: 

The prologue, written on April 04, made me smile. According to that writing, I had already fixed any errors or typos in the previous episodes. I certainly missed a lot. I also found other missed details. I have repaired some sentence structure without losing the intent. Sometimes clarifying the intent. Thank goodness for the April 04 post! With that post, I recognized and fixed a ‘little white lie' regarding Dez' jail experience. ‘For this writer, keeping up with the details so this story doesn’t completely fall apart, is quite a challenge.’ I've started a log for many of these details as I find them. My entry for today is the childhood address of my two main characters. 

April 04, 2020

Prologue:

Before I wrote Episode Eleven of Situationally Theirs, I decided to go back over the previous 10 episodes to see where any glitches are. I am aware that this story is definitely no great literary effort, but I’ve tried to keep it together. However, after reading through the whole story, I found and corrected quite few errors and typos. I also found that Desperanza has some explaining to do. In the Episode Ten, Desperanza told her sister Emelina only part of the truth about her reason for being in jail. Emmie had to pick her up so she wouldn’t get moved to an even less hospitable environment. So in this episode, that little white lie of omission will have to get rectified. Even if it damages their fragile but budding relationship. For this writer, keeping up with the details so this story doesn’t completely fall apart, is quite a challenge. I am determined to see this story to its natural end. What started as an attempt to kick my muse in its imagination, it has rather mushroomed. Continuing with the story and with my usual writing exercises, this entire story has become a writing exercise! I am so appreciative of all who read this little saga. Here is the next instalment of Situationally Theirs:  'Middling'

Middling

Time moved so very slowly, unless the sisters explored their enforced solitude and their sudden reunion. Desperanza and her older sister, Emelina thought that they were just fine. Until the atmosphere in their kitchen ‘home’ started to thicken like Cook’s soups. Not as delicious though. In fact not delicious at all. They had become snappy with each other, as though they were teenagers and back in their old bedroom on 65 Penhurst St. Dez had taken to go out on walks. Emmie retreated to Digby’s room. 

Their self imposed two week semi-isolation was over. They still hadn’t contacted the Housekeeper, Martha or the butler, Digby. They had found all the staff’s email addresses, eaten supper, then set up both the Skype program and the Zoom program on the kitchen computer. That was two days prior to the confession that Dez had to make to Emmie. Since telling Emmie about why she had been in jail, she had gotten quieter and quieter. Despite her withdrawal, she had been very comforting that evening. Dez realized that Emmie had her own worries. Worries about her staff and her finances. However, Emmie shelved her personal concerns. It was unlike her sister to be that quiet for that long. Now Emmie was worried about how Dez was taking in all of their situation and what would happen when things go back to normal. Normal. There would be no going back, merely shaping this new normal they were in. Together.

“Emmie, can I talk to you?” Dez felt shy and far too young. So young she pull3e on her left earlobe the same way as her ten year old self. She did tell Emmie about jail, but it wasn’t quite the whole truth. She had tried to convince herself that it didn’t really matter. She had really just made it sound more innocent that it really was. She almost managed to believe it herself. But she couldn’t sleep very much, tossing and turning. Punching her pillow. Even crying at night. Earlier, it was her situation, being a guest in her sister’s home, not knowing whether her apartment would still be her own, where she would go…where her car was…..all of those things swirled in her head constantly. Until she neglected to tell Emmie she was a bank robber and a failed bank robber, at that. So there she was, in their kitchen home base, pulling on her left earlobe and waiting for Emmie to answer her.

“Of course Dez. What is it? You look really worried.”

“Well. There’s actually two things.”

“Two things?” 

“Well…..the tape has to go.”

“The tape?” Why is Dez worried about the horrid green tape that was on the floor and long servants table? This is very strange. 

“Yes. The tape. The two weeks are up and we can take the tape off of everything. We still have to keep our distance but we just don’t need the tape anymore.”

“Ok, we can do that before lunch. You said two things. What is the second thing?”

“I kind of told you a fib about why I was in jail. I was in Seattle that same day and a border guard did ask me where I was going. And I did say ‘to my sister’s’. And he did try to phone you. But the part about being taken into Hartley to jail and my car being impounded didn’t happen. Well, my car did get impounded but that was by the Hartley police after they arrested me at the bank.”

“The bank? Why would they impound your car because you were at the bank?”

“Well. I kind of was trying to rob the bank. But the money was just lying there. There was nobody there and I just thought…….if I hurried and just took some, Miss Prudhomme wouldn’t notice. Then there were these two weird security guards with strings of handcuffs and I was handcuffed to the desk and they sprayed me with Lysol. Why are you laughing!? This is serious. I’m a bank robber and I told you a lie to cover it up!”

Emelina had tried to stifle her laughter, but watching her younger sister become her little sister right before her eyes was just too much. Her iron control just melted away. If she could have hugged Desperanza then and there she would have. 

“Have you no idea how hilarious you sound? I’m sorry. You are serious, but you are not a bank robber and you’ve told me tons of stories since you were old enough to talk. And I’ve told you at least as many stories until our lives took different directions. Do I have to worry that the police will arrive to cart you away to a maximum security prison?”

Dez visibly relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. “No. Miss Prudhomme, she’s the bank manager, didn’t press any charges. She said being sprayed with Lysol by the two goofy bank guards was enough punishment.”

“Are you finished your tale of adventure, Dez?  I want to get back to that horrid green tape. It clashes with my beautiful blue cupboards. Which do you want? The tape on the floor or on the table. Maybe we should both pick up the tape on the floor ~ you start at one end, and I’ll start at the other.”

“Courage is found in unlikely places.”

~ J.R.R.Tolkien

Hidden - Chapter 7

Hidden - Chapter 7

There was no going back, at least not now. Getting this couple together had taken too much work. Not to mention shopping for a wardrobe that wasn’t bland. But it really was the time spent that was so interesting. After Charlotta and Pearl had eaten their High Tea, they did in fact go shopping. But while they were deep in conversation about their shopping trip, ‘Melody in Blue’ interrupted them. Charlotta raised her head, maybe just a little too quickly.

‘Oh, we are going to be serenaded after all. He really is quite handsome don’t you think?’

‘He is not as handsome as that young man over at the bar. At least that’s my opinion. But he is alright to look at - except for that mop of hair.’

‘Why, Pearl! What do you see in someone sitting at bar?’

‘Well, he is better looking. Yes, he is at the bar, but he is dressed so smartly and sitting up straight. I find him much more appealing.”

*********

“Do you remember that, Pearl?”

Pearl blushed, because she had never told Ethan about that afternoon. 

“Of course I remember? But how did you ever get us all together?”

“I came back to the dining room after we left to go shopping. I told you I’d left my new gloves on the table. But I really wanted to talk to this now not so young man you were interested in. It did rather disappoint me, but I already had to revise my plans once. What was another little blip? Ethan and I exchanged phone numbers and met the next day to plan our Valentine’s Day ambush of you too. I had no idea that he was making plans for Evan as I was planning for you!”

“Well, I’m glad you both did.” Evan chimed in. “I was really so shy and my only friend, besides you, Ethan, was the piano.”

“Our plans didn’t really go the way Charlotta and I wanted them to go. We did get to the Valentine’s Day dance but that’s about where it ended. I actually didn’t like you very much, Charlotta, but after meeting Pearl, I was willing to put up with you wanting to run the show.”

“I didn’t much like you either, Ethan, but we did kind of make a good team. As long as you let me run the show.’

**********

Their double weddings had been beautiful. Evan played 'Melody in Blue' before the ceremony. Ethan was dressed smartly in a gray tuxedo. Pearl and Charlotta wore wedding dresses were beautiful. Pearl's with classic lines, Charlotta's almost as vibrant as her personality. Just toned down a bit. Pearl and Ethan were, surprisingly, a match made in heaven. Evan and Charlotta had already fallen in love, but neither of them knew it. It was all those return trips to hear Evan’s piano playing that started their bond in those early years. So here they were, 50 years later sitting in the same dining room for High Tea, talking about their children and grandchildren and making plans for Valentines Day. They did have one more trip down memory lane. On Valentines Day, in the evening they would return here for dinner and dancing, like they had done every year.

“True love stories never have endings,”

~ Richard Bach

Together ~ PERFECT ~ Theme for February 2020

Pearl knew that…

Evan also knew that…..

Red was the colour for…..

February, but……

Ethan was sure that…..

Charlotta knew that…..

There was no going…….

“It all made perfect sense, and at the same time, 

nothing seemed to make sense at all.”

~ Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember