Saturday, Oct. 16, 2004
11:38 a.m.

My sore neck and resulting temple ache all come down to poor posture, I am convinced ... when it is not PMS time of the month.

Last night we sisters and (some of) our kids had pizza and watched a movie at Joan and Gary's. The boys and I came home about 10:30 and after they went to bed, I laid on the couch for a while and looked at the TV.

Family Guy was on. I hadn't seen it before. It was all right, but I wouldn't go out of my way to see it again. Then I caught the end of that movie with Warren Beatty in it, the one where he dies and comes back in a football player's body. Beatty is always spoken of as a heartbreaking Hollywood hunk and I've wondered why, as he is just another fella from all appearances. But last night, seeing him in his prime younger days, I could see why he would turn female (and some male) heads.

Just as back home on the farm, I notice that when I watch TV here my neck seems to go out. I really think it's the furniture -- it is not conducive to proper posture, for me.

I slept till 10 o'clock this morning. Sleeping in late most often happens when my neck is bothering me and my instinct is to sleep to get away from the discomfort. It doesn't work but I keep doing it.

Anyway, I've taken a pill now and am waiting for it to kick in, distracting myself by sitting at the computer.

I figure the antidote to the poor-posture neck thing is always to sit on the floor while watching TV. When sitting on the floor, one has no choice but to hold oneself more upright, as you have nothing to slouch against.

Joan asked me last night if I'd take a yoga class with her. I said no; I know how to do yoga, have taken classes from two instructors and don't want to take more classes anyway, I get tired of the running around when I'd rather stay home.

Well then maybe I'd teach her? Shouldn't, I said. You should learn from a qualified instructor. I'll talk to her about it again though. It is difficult to fit in evening and weekend classes when you have a busy life and a two-year-old who needs your time and attention. Surely it wouldn't hurt to teach her my own routine. Maybe it will help me get back into it myself. I brought my yoga mat out here with me, and a set of stretchy things Joan gave me, which I planned to wear for my yoga sessions.

On the drive to our rented home here, there is a bright corner filled with some of my favourite flowers -- deep carmine cosmos, bright pink cosmos -- and many other eye-enticing colours. I appreciate them each time I come up to that corner. I'd just decided that some day I'd go tell the owner how much pleasure those flowers give me, when I noticed an elderly lady out on the deck. So I stopped my van and got out.

"Is this your house?" I called out, and a white-haired man on the other side of the deck stepped forward.

"Yes. What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to tell you how much I have been enjoying your flowers out front! They are beautiful, and I am grateful for them every time I drive by."

"Oh, thank you!" they both said, and beamed. "Do you live in this area?" the gentleman asked.

"Yes; I've just moved here from Saskatchewan, and all my flowers out there are already frozen and dried up," I said.

"Do you have a family?" the husband wanted to know.

"Yes, two kids."

"And do you have an old man?" he added, laughing at his use of the slang term.

"Yes; he'll be here in a couple weeks."

"What does he do?" he inquired, leaning over the railing on the upper floor of his house. The wife, meanwhile, smiled shyly from the other side of the deck. They had been busy with brushes, perhaps were painting or staining the floor.

"He's a farmer and a general contractor."

"Well, I'd like to meet him. When he gets here, come over and visit us."

"Will do," I said, waved, and got back into my van.

***

Today we are off to Mom and Dad's, if my neck smartens up. My cousin Heather is here; she and her beau flew in from Saskatoon this morning. I will invite them to stay here with us if they like; will give them my bed and sleep on the comfy couch myself. They are staying all week.

Mom's had a lot of pain recently and has again, reluctantly, started taking her morphine tablets. I need to give her some foot treatments, which can relieve pain and promote self-healing. And I want to get over there more often. I'll take my song sheets and the taped piano accompaniment and, when we are fortunate enough to have no audience, Mom and I can sing together. We will both enjoy that, and singing, they say, helps you stay healthy. It is a cardio workout, at the very least, and good for your lungs.

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Friday, Oct. 15, 2004
3:11 p.m.

Saw these two just outside of town Sunday morning around seven as we were driving to the city.

Today I put in the last of my hours at the arena. Three hours of mopping those black rubber floors, after Karen had already done it once. She worked there last night till 3 a.m.

By the time I was coming down the home stretch, I was feeling pretty good about getting finished. I was just sweeping the final section one more time before giving it a mop, and was sweeping the dirt out through the back door, when I looked behind it and saw a man and a woman stretched out against the wall behind the door, in the corner. They were looking content enough to lounge in the sunshine, but they had two shopping carts full of blankets -- a good sign that they are among the homeless who populate Kelowna's downtown parks and public areas. Anyway, I said hello, they grinned and said hello back, and I went back inside to finish mopping.

You hear a lot about the homeless people in this city, and since it's been on the radio and in the newspapers, every time I see someone with a packsack or pushing a shopping cart downtown I wonder if they are homeless. Often it's fairly obvious, I guess.

I had meant to make a donation to buy some Thanksgiving dinners for some of them before I left for Saskatchewan last weekend, but hadn't gotten around to it.

I had stuck a twenty-dollar bill into my jeans pocket before leaving the house this morning, and I remembered that and thought these two could probably use it. So I pushed open the door again and said to them, "Need some cash?"

Those are the exact words my Grandpa Benson used to say to me All The Time. I could almost hear his voice as I repeated them today.

The man accepted the bill, said "Thanks, Luv," and I replied, "Enjoy it" and slipped back inside.

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