We reap what we sow.

We are in the midst of a scorching heatwave. It is pretty difficult to function outside at all. Between my blossoming phlebitis, and the fibromyalgia, I'm having a bit of a struggle. The left ankle is starting to terrorize me by swelling, itching, aching and bubbling. This is dangerous stuff that can quite literally ruin my summer. So, off I went yesterday to the after hours clinic for an aggressive antibiotic to fight ulcer infection. I hope it works. We did start it early so maybe we can head this off at the pass. The other irony is that this always happens when my doctor or I are on vacation. He saw me before he left and all was well. It's the heat and humidity that brought this on. Even though I'm indoors in the AC the pressure still affects my legs. It's a hereditary curse I can't escape.

Speaking of what we can't escape, I recently was told that Alfie Pinsky's widow, Nicole Durand, died alone at the farm and wasn't found for a few days. I find that very sad even though I realize she was a bit of a misanthrope in later years. That farm was my home for ten years. I helped design and build the house. The chicken coop was converted into my sculpture studio, and the stable was Alfie's painting studio. A lifetime of sculpture production was stored and deteriorated in the barn. The house was filled with Quebec antiques that I purchased at farm auctions and refinished myself. When I left Alfie, I walked away and left everything behind. It all became hers when he married Nicole.

Alfie partnered with Gooderige Roberts to buy the farm and that farm has historic meaning because Gooderidge painted so many landscapes there. Gooderidge and Joan were very close and like family really. He started to breakdown there and his decline was visible in his paintings. At the end of his illness, Gooderidge was hospitalized and Joan came less often. During that terrible time, I used to babysit Tim so Joan could focus solely on her husband's needs. Gooderidge was suffering from anxiety and depression and wouldn't let Joan out of his sight. Timmy was an additional target for his anxiety so when I had Tim, Joan could focus on allaying Gooderich's fears. So many memories and many are so sad.

I wish I could say that Alfie rose to the crisis with understanding and compassion, but sadly it wasn't so. He began to express resentment about the extra maintenance work he was doing (grass cutting and a few repairs) to help Joan. He also would criticize Joan for the psychiatric care Gooderidge was getting (shock therapy)even though there were no other options being recommended at that time. With each shock treatment, Gooderidge's memory would worsen. Alfie undertook a series of interviews for the National Gallery's planned retrospective of Gooderidge Roberts work. He was so worried that Gooderidge would forget everything, he became aggressive in his questioning and it frustrated Gooderidge upsetting him even more. Joan was angry with Alfie and the foundation was laid for a rift in their friendship. The retrospective exhibition was great, the catalog wonderful, but the trust in the friendship was gone.

It was 1969 by that time, and I separated from Alfie. I felt so guilty about leaving such a "good" man that I left everything behind. He'd often told me that the most interesting thing about me was my art. I was discouraged from having children, from returning to university for a Masters Degree, from taking a year off to just live life etc. He had my best interests at heart after all? He wanted me to excel as a sculptor and show, show, show. I was encouraged to apply for a Canada Council Grant for a big show, but when I won it in 68, Alfie was mean and vindictive. After that solo show at Sir George Williams University (now Concordia)in the midst of a student occupation and race riot, I lost it and left the studio, the marriage and his grand design. There were several sub plots of course, but for the purpose of this entry, I'll stick to the main story.

Alfie met Nicole a year later. She was Joan Robert's colleague and she rented my cottage for the summer when I went to New York. Joan introduced them and a hot affair ensued in my cottage and at the farm I had so recently vacated. She was installed as a permanent fixture a few months later much to Joan's chagrin. Suddenly, Nicole was in charge of domestic life at the farm and Alfie.

Goodridge died in 1972 and Joan was spending less time at the farm as she took Tim and Glyn to her home territory at Georgian Bay. To make a long story short Alfie and Nicole developed a torturous relationship involving too much booze and weed. Joan was not welcomed when she went to the farm. Tim grew up to take care of things for his mother and Alfie and Tim clashed on numerous occasions. When Alfie began to threaten Tim with a shot gun it became clear that separate houses notwithstanding, the Roberts and Pinsky households could no longer coexist. Throughout, Nicole was egging Alfie on with her paranoia and Joan became fearful for her family's safety. When they were barred from walking past the Pinsky house to visit Gooderidge's final resting place under the much painted "Black Cherry Tree", Joan sold her half of the farm to Alfie, and Nicole got it all.

Nicole and Alfie spent the last ten years alone together on a farm, once built on love and friendship, that they jointly turned into an isolated angry place. He died first uncelebrated and silently to be followed recently by his widow Nicole. It was an end of their own making. Only Gooderidge is a positive memory there, through his many wonderful paintings, and his ashes under the "Black Cherry Tree".

As for me, I do wonder about Alfie's art collection. Two paintings belonged to me because they were given to me - a small water colour by Gooderidge, and a black and white by drawing by Phillip Surrey. I don't suppose I'll ever see them again. My sculptures are probably totally deteriorated by now. In the end, Alfie didn't actually care for that part of me he claimed to have valued the most.

And Joan, she is still a vibrant and interesting octogenarian, who published her memoirs recently about her life with Gooderidge Roberts. She still travels to Georgian Bay every summer and visits me at my cottage too. Our friendship and mutual respect has lasted throughout this long saga, and we remain close to this day. I believe this is called good Karma.

Dinah Update

Dinah has been with us four days and some hours. The settling is going very smoothly. I took her for he first Vet check up. She had been checked and given her shots by the ARK vet, but I wanted something more thorough. Well she is free of serious symptoms, her heart is sound and her respiratory system is good. She has a few kitten problems like Conjunctivitis in both eyes and worms.Both have been addressed and treatment continues at home for two weeks. She is underweight for her age but we are on the way to fixing that. Next visit she'll have her Rabies and leukemia shots. She had a lot to say in the carrier to and from the clinic, none of it good.

Willy has made a decision to accept her, and tries to engage her in play. She is a little nervous about this change in events but is intrigued enough now to be seduced. Then chasing ensues and Willy flops on the floor to reassure her. It's amazing how quickly he accepted her. He was very distressed when she went in the carrier, and very happy when she came home. He sniffed her all over after the vet visit and tried to wash her. She was not willing to be washed.

Tonight Willy thought he had hidden himself in a cardboard carton. Dinah wasn't fooled for long. It is going to be a very busy time here and very much fun. Dinah is such a cute baby and Willy is a baby at heart.

I've been researching condominiums of late to study my options because I may need to sell my beautiful house sooner than later. It depends on my finances. My pension is not keeping pace with the cost of living, and my US pension is now worth less because the US dollar is so low. The cost of upkeep is increasing as I can do less work myself.

The condo route may not resolve these issues because condo fees can be high. The maintenance is taken care of by the condo corp but I was shocked at how high the taxes are. That surprised me because my taxes on this huge property and house are really reasonable. It's still early days, and more research needs to be done.

I did see one condo last Sunday, that I really liked and could see myself living there. Lots of light, large rooms, nice layout and a gorgeous patio-garden area.
I could envision a studio and my cats looking out all windows and patio doors. I saw another that I didn't like which was bigger with a basement but lacked charm. The deck was exposed to the passing traffic on the Rotary Trail. The taxes on that property were extreme. I did get a sense of what is out there and the leaving here won't be as traumatic as I fear.

I came home and walked around my garden, looking at all that I had created and felt so sad. I really adore living here. But at times I feel so adrift in all this beauty and space with nobody to share it with. I'm no longer entertaining much and few guests come for prolonged visits. The people I love are rarely here and in Julie's case will never be here again. So perhaps the time is approaching for a fresh start.
At the very least, the time has come to be mindful of my options.

Whatever I choose to do, there are two little buddies who will be included in my decision. Pets must always be allowed.

Introducing Dinah.

Dinah has joined the family. She arrived last Friday to my great surprise. I went into Pet Value to buy some Koi food. As I came in, the sales woman was cleaning the adoption cage and holding this little fluffy bundle on her shoulder. The bundle looked at me and I looked at it and it was love at first sight. She was called Mary Pickford on the adoption papers, a very unsuitable name. Mary Pickford was petite and this kitten though small, will not be petite. She's a Maine Coon cross and will grow into a big cat.

She and her siblings were rescued by ARKK. were vet checked and had there shots before putting them up for adoption. I brought her home and introduced her to Willy who was not thrilled to see her. He is quite grumpy with me but he's a good-natured boy and he will be won over in time. I never expected to adopt a kitten. They are a hand full, and require a lot more care than a cat. I always felt that the older animals needed to be adopted more, and I believed that at my age, a kitten could outlive me. Willy and I have a tight relationship and didn't need a stranger butting in. All this good sense evaporated when I saw Dinah. Yes that's her new name Dinah.

She is home, purring on my chest as I write this. She likes to lie under my chin on my bust while I work on my laptop. Willy still has me all to himself in bed all night and he gets away from Dinah during the day when he goes out. Yesterday he would have nothing to do with Dinah, but today he was a bit intrigued and let her sniff him and watched her play with the toys he lost interest in long ago. It will work out once he figures how to maintain dominance and realizes he's still number one with me.

It will be a new adventure as she grows up and it will be fun.

Enjoying my own company.

It's been some time since my last post because it's summer and the garden beckons. As the weather improved, I moved my centre outside. Aside from the normal garden stuff, I've also been painting, adding yet another art work to my growing stockpile of useless stuff to leave for Maya to sort out later. If some paintings would sell, I'd feel better because at least I would be increasing my income. Instead this ever growing inventory is costing me money, because paint, brushes and boards cost money. Framing to show is a costly process and renting a gallery costs too. Why do we do it?
Sculpture is worse and the rewards even less. Fewer people buy sculpture than paintings. There must be attics, basements, closets and sheds, all over our fair land, that are filled with people's unsold art. It's a subject worthy of a documentary.

This has been Canada Day long weekend and I had absolutely no plans made with anyone. At first I felt sad at the prospect of a long holiday weekend with nowhere to go and no one to see. Some friends went camping, others went to Ottawa for the July 1 party, or had a BBQ with friends. I, on the other hand, stayed home and worked in my garden. Poor me - nobody likes me - everyone forgot me etc. Hey just a minute, I never called anyone, or had them over for a BBQ, or went to the fireworks at Little Lake. In fact I realized I enjoyed the quiet and chose to stay right where I was.

Three glorious days of puttering around, pruning, weeding, pond watching outside with my jolly little Willy by my side. Yesterday I painted another landscape of the garden. Today I read and snoozed in my Zero Gravity chair. I enjoyed a cool one, watched the Koi's antics and fell asleep with the sound of the water soothing me. Willy slept on, beside, and under my recliner until we were interrupted when Michael came to haul away a couple of huge sections from a recently felled maple tree.

He is a wood worker and has visions of beautiful creations from my maple. He'll take them home cut and shape them into manageable pieces, and seal them for drying. It's wonderful to see none of my storm damaged tree being wasted. The rest is drying for fireplace use. I use every bit of my wood. I've lived here for 16 years and have never bought winter wood yet and I burn my fireplace every evening all winter long. It's a gift.

Another development in my chipmunk story. For several weeks Munkey lived in my den. He ate the food I left out for him and settled in quite comfortably. Willy left him alone because he went outside during the day and was shut out of the room at night. My rapidly domesticating chipmunk was enjoying the best that I had to offer, drinking water, sunflower and other seeds, peanuts and raw almonds. I quickly discovered that he had a special fondness for the almonds. If I was sitting here reading or watching TV, Munkey would emerge and sit right in front of me, eating, grooming and chittering. I left the door to the outside open all day and he could exit whenever he chose. For nearly six weeks he didn't choose to leave.

It was a bit worrisome because I will be gone to the cottage for nearly a month in August and leaving a chipmunk in my house just is not an option. I was considering the need to call pest control for a humane removal. Maya came last weekend. We had a garage sale and went to a baby shower. Munkey showed himself to Maya but was uneasy with another person talking, laughing loudly etc. She left for London on Sunday evening and Munkey left too. He took the door because all the commotion was just too much even for a sociable chipmunk. It's very quiet without him. No more spontaneous chirping and darting about. But he will sure have some interesting tales to tell to his folks in the nest.

Finally, a new cat has been added to my outdoor cat diner. A poor little long-haired Russian Blue with intense and feral eyes is feeding here. Willy used to holler with rage at this cat, until he found himself outside staring her in the eye. Both cats decided to call a truce and go their separate ways. So Smoke dines undisturbed when I feed Willy inside. All is peaceful and Smoke is filling out a bit. Her fur is terribly matted, but she is way too timid for me to even consider grooming her.
Freddy has moved on and Buddy aka Timbit stays indoors most of the time now. So Smoke doesn't have to fight over food these days. Feral cats get a bad rap. They are generally harmless and totally shy. Most are almost never seen. I worry about them because they lead such a harsh existence, so anything I can do to make their lives a little less difficult, I consider a mitzva.

I'm glad that I enjoy my own company, because it's clear now that I'll be on my own till the end. Trent declined Maya's application for the PhD program and she won't be coming home in any foreseeable future. It sadly, frees me to make decisions about my life without her in the equation. She and Glenn will go wherever suits them and since there are no grandchildren in my foreseeable future, I must consider downsizing. It breaks my heart to leave this house, but if I wait too long it will be much more difficult. Things will be as they must be. Aging is inevitable and I've never been one not to face reality.