When Agreeable


March 13, 2023- A call came to me, whilst I was sipping coffee and reading the Monday newspaper-a small affair most days. Seeing the name of the caller, I figured it was an urgent call to action and I was prepared to answer the call. These two weeks have activities planned, but none that couldn’t be cleared for the sake of an emergency.

It turned out that the situation was “kinda, sorta”. I would be on stand-by, for three weeks, not two, and would thus have to cancel a few more long-standing commitments, for the sake of an iffy situation. There may yet be a call back, over the next few days, but I am moving forward with what is in front of me.

I had a weight reduction check, about an hour later. Progress is generally solid and consistent, but one area has plateaued. It’ll get going again, with a few tweaks of my own, and with due consideration of the suggestions made by the coach. I am not buying into the catalog of this company, lock, stock and barrel, nor am I going to join the regimen of outside activity scheduled by the club. I may participate, every so often, in an early morning activity, but my early a.m.s have generally been “ease into things”, with more vigourous actions from late morning onward. I am not the cookie-cutter all-American Macho Man.

That last thought set me to looking back, on just how much of a solo act I have been, activity-wise and schedule-wise, since Penny died. Hiking Buddy, when she feels up to it, has provided an exception-and there are people with whom I enjoy spending time, in other areas. Mostly, though, I have returned to marching to that drummer who set my pace, before I was married. The beat is a lot more spiritual now, and Penny’s soul, along with others, has a good deal to do with how the beat plays out, but I don’t consult all that many humans about things that impact only yours truly. Visits and joint activities, of course, are agreed upon-but my solo act, otherwise, follows those spirit guides.

That leads to the rest of the week-and a long-overdue visit with some old friends will be Stop One, tomorrow, and a few other places and people lie on the short itinerary. It’ll all happen, when agreeable.

Taking Ownership


March 6, 2023- One of my fellow servers, in the Monday dinner line, asked why I was not putting shredded Parmesan cheese on a small snack of meatballs and sauce that I had taken for myself. I explained about the no dairy and limited grains that are part of my weight reduction plan.

He pointed to his belly, and said, “Not me. I paid for this and I own it!” The implication was: “Come on! Let it go and enjoy life!!” For years, maybe too many, I had the same attitude. I’m tired of it, though. Being of smaller girth actually appeals to me-for the sake of my heart health, if nothing else. So, I will continue the tight regimen, for as long as is necessary-probably another month or two. After that, maintenance will require a modified discipline.

Each of us gets to own our behaviours, as well as our statements. I have, thankfully, been called to account, at first by my parents and other adults, growing up; then by various people, in the years since. Mostly, though, I have been blessed with a very active conscience-which thankfully lets me rest, once I have made any amends that have been necessary, following transgressions great and small.

Taking ownership of life means being consistent, with a fair dose of flexibility-in the sense that plans can be made, while knowing that life can, and does, get in the way. The consistency lies in intent, in a sense of fairness and in communication. Taking ownership of life is also showing the force of example.

So, I enjoyed my snack of a few meatballs, in tomato sauce, cleaned the tables after serving and went back to the apartment, joining an online ecstatic dance group, for an hour or so. No one said an owned life had to be a burden.



February 18, 2023- There was only a skeleton crew, at breakdown time today. So three of us got it together and moved the “mountain”, into the shipping container that serves as Farmers’ Market’s home for tables, chairs, pop-up tents, weights and signs. One other person sorted compost (lucky soul-j.k.) and around 2:30, we called it a day.

This is “shoulder season” for our area- the weather has been iffy and people are looking towards the sunny south. Topping things off, one favoured weekend hangout is closed due to a water line break, and another is open, but the owner is keeping a wary eye on signage which threatens to dislodge from its spot near the roof on the neighbour’s fascia. She has a wide area roped off, taking no chances with any sudden collapse.

My food plan continues, with everyone’s understanding and encouragement. Even the younger kids are noting my progress, and the scale shows that discipline is paying off. The main thing is to eliminate strain on the heart, so on we go with avoiding dairy and bread-for the time it takes to downsize. When they do come back into my regimen, portions will remain small.

Friends are hanging in there with their challenges, and I am just glad to be there for them, when they share both progress and setbacks. On we all go, each with a version of a full-court press.