Welding Iron

Rusty barbed wire - how satisfying
That's welding as in joining, not wielding as in hitting someone (most likely myself) repeatedly over the head with an iron bar.
1) Fay Weldon, Mind the Gap! Mind the Gap! Mind the Gap! What's this gap? Blah, blah, blah.
2) Salman Rushdie, Air meeting glass, and glass meeting air... etc, etc, etc, Blah, blah, blah. What the hell, I never did approve of suttee, although in this case it wasn't really suttee but it was still a woman throwing herself through glass and air. Why not the man for a change, I wonder.
3) Maeve Binchey, the wise woman of the West would ensure that mothers were kept far away from the dress fittings... Blah, blah, blah. The wise woman of the West might also say that there's more than enough blah, blah, blah to go around the world these days and one should stop adding to the blahs. Verily this is so, especially on days like these when the sun goes by 4pm, and the clouds are rolling in after a day or two of sun.

What, after all, can you expect? This is the North West, we live along the coast and are washed almost daily by what one calls the West Coast Facial.  It happens you know, sunny days come and go, rainy days and Mondays take their place, and oh there's a song in there somewhere, except double oh, it's been done.

And...so what?! The track is there, get on, or stay off. Up to you.
Monday: I had to stretch my right hip and hamstring twice in the day and even then decided to head up to Riley Park where the light was nowhere to be found, and the head had not been turned on, and it was generally so dismal and desolated that I shivered and felt the stampede of barbarian hordes over my grave. Brrr. Why, I might even have shed a tear or two for my impending funeral, and no that's not as egotistical as it might seem. Fortunately, the good MD showed up - lo, what memories this brought back - and he flipped a switch, opened some doors and there were mats and cushions galore. So we went through his ministrations and were brought round to a more flexible, and stronger, sense of mind, self and body. Good thing too else I might had problems getting home on my bike. In any case, I got home, and cleared up with little to no regard for the hypersensitive one with big ears below and tried to go to bed. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be for various bing-bongs went off - and there was comfort to be had in the fact that for once, the bing-bongs were for me, and they heralded the way back on to the tracks. This time, let's hope the tracks don't go through a tunnel, and if it does, and there's a light at the end, that the light is not from an on-coming run away train. What a train of thought. There is a positive in everything that is experienced and said. The Wise woman of the West - damn her - is more often right than wrong. So back to the narrative, and dump the drama.

Not Cyrstal Clear, but Crystal Blue
On Tuesday, which was two days ago, I was seduced into a purchase that I probably shouldn't have made, but it was one of those moments when things were simply meant to be. But let's first start with a quote from KB, who said, "It's evil of them to make it in 27 colours in the first place, and then to limit certain colours to certain stores with their own sale prices...why, that's bring evil to a whole new level". It was indeed evil of them to make it in 27 colours, but such pretty colours, so much so that I wanted one in each shade. And what shades they came in. And such names for the shades - they put both Ralph (Lauren) and Martha (Stewart)'s PR groups combined to shame. I went to Canadian Tire, surveyed the shades available and immediately developed a headache. Then I went to London Drugs, Best Buy and online to take a peek at Costco, Amazon and Lowes. The headache intensified severely and I went to KB for succour, and was told to 'fecking go away and make a fecking decision on your fecking own' (I paraphrase). It is important to seek support from the appropriate people, and not just anyone, but I shall speak more of this life lesson, learnt on Tuesday, later, but back to the headache. You see, it wasn't just about the colours, but how the stores had different prices, offers and colours in stock. The headache came about creating a matrix to determine which set of combined circumstances - store location, price, rebate offer, colour and convenience - was the sweet spot for me.  For the record, KB was no help. In any case, I finally made a decision, and the good RP gave me a hand that evening getting my new toy time-saving, life-saving essential piece of cooking equipment, in Crystal Blue, home. There it shall sit and be admired until such time I have monies to buy butter, sugar and flour again. Then the paddles shall spin, the whisks shall twirl and the hook shall knead.

Not a parasite in a RBC, but a mosquito in a trap.
Yesterday, Wednesday. I was convinced that I had a strange, atypical case of malaria. There I was, quite healthy and happy, then I'd be plunged into a shivering, quaking wobbly mess of jello, then another 24-36 hours, I'd be fine again, then again I'd become jello. I checked my blood, did a smear, fixed the RBCs with gentian blue and found no parasites. Obviously not malaria so I was stymied, but fortunately I hit the non-wobbly jello stage again and with the strength of mind that has become essential to carry on caring about the state of the world, manage to push thoughts of parasites, whether extant or not, out of my head. I even went for a run, despite having run with RP the night before, around False Creek with the usual crowd of malingerers and lolly-gaggers at the bridge and then went home to sup on left-overs and make peace with my dwindling bank accounts, which shall dwindle even more when Crystal Blue makes its way onto my financial invoices. What the hell, life is short, if I can't twirl for real, I can make other things twirl to my will.

And there I shall stop, go do two other things on my list and then depart for whatever awaits me.