Monthly Archives: September 2016



Cancer Care Ontario, a provincial governmental agency, keeps sending me letters telling me that I should have a Fecal Occult Blood Test (FOBT) because I could have colon cancer and not know it.

A Fecal Occult Blood Test?  Sounds like something involving shit and the supernatural.

Are the letters The Universe’s way of trying to tell me something, or are these letters simply another governmental agency trying to justify its existence?

True, I could have colon cancer and not know it.  I could have stomach cancer, and not know it.  I could have liver cancer, and not know it.  I could have lung cancer, and not know it.  And I could have silent voices in my head, and not know it.  I feel okay.  I know that.

Perhaps one day I will go see Harry Potter for that fecal occult test, but for now I won’t worry about all the coulds.  I have mentioned before that I stay healthy by keeping away from doctors.

I appreciate Cancer Care Ontario’s concern, but my body came with an expiry date.  Neither Cancer Care Ontario nor any doctor can do anything to change that date.  They think they can, but they can’t.  Anonymous once said,

 “The difference between God and doctors is that God knows that he is not a doctor.”





My political views go across the road and then some, and they are not on the back of a chicken.  I look for the truth.  It matters not whether the truth comes from the right, the left, the far right or the far left.  I’m interested in the truth.

I avoid the ad hominem fallacy when listening to or reading what people have to say.  I focus on the message and not the messenger. Is the message true?  What is the evidence to prove that the message is true?

An alarm goes off in my head when I hear someone attacking the messenger to dismiss a message.  Give me evidence that proves the message is wrong.  Deal with the message and not the messenger.  I suspect that the message is likely true when opponents to the message give no evidence to disprove it, and spend their time attacking the messenger.

Some of my family and friends cannot understand why I am not loyal to one political party.  I am loyal to the truth.  I am also loyal to my opinions, judgments, biases, and beliefs, but don’t tell anyone.  I want to think that I am objective when it comes to the quest for the truth.



I was given strict instructions not to post anything on Facebook about a birth until the mother and father did so.  I was given these strict instructions twice.  I was not planning to post anything about the birth, but the person giving me the strict instructions falsely assumed that I was planning to do so.  Since I was told not to post anything about the birth, I am posting about the birth.  So there!  I won’t use any names.

A girl went from Spirit to flesh on Saturday September 24 at 9:50 p.m.  She weighed 8 lbs. 6 oz.

What adventures await her?  What will her life be like in twenty, forty, fifty years?  I can’t imagine what the technology will be like, but human nature will be the same.  Human nature hasn’t changed no matter what technological advances were made.

“And so little girl who was born yesterday, welcome to Earth.  I hope you enjoy your stay here.  I will do my best to keep the planet clean for you, but I can’t speak for my fellow human beings.  You’ll soon discover that there are some humans who don’t care about the environment.  But don’t worry about that now.  Have fun.  Try to keep your child-like energy, spontaneity, joy and laughter no matter how old you get.  And thank you for reminding me, for the second time this week, that life joyfully goes on.  Cheers!”



I’m glad that I don’t know everything.  How dull life would be if I did.  No wonder.  No curiosity.  No joy in discovering new things.

I agree with people who call me ignorant.  You should see their expressions when I say, “Yes, I’m ignorant.”  My words puzzle them. They do not realize that the more I learn, the more I discover how much I don’t know.  The more I discover how much I don’t know, the more I see how ignorant I am.  The more I see how ignorant I am, the more I see how much there is to know.  And since knowledge is infinite, I can spend forever having fun trying to learn everything.

I’m grateful for my ignorance.  It makes my life such an adventure.



Let’s call her Brenda.  Brenda is not her real name, but she is real.  Brenda already knew that she, and her husband, were having a boy.  Let’s call the boy Logan.

Brenda’s due date was Thursday September 22, but Brenda thought that Logan would come early because his brother came two weeks early five years ago.  Logan’s brother gave Brenda a hard labor.

At a family gathering on Saturday September 17, I put my hands on Brenda’s belly and said, “Logan, wait until Thursday September 22 before you come out.  And when you come, be easy on your mommy.  Also, don’t come too early in the morning.”

Brenda said, “Oh no, I think that he is still going to come earlier than Thursday.”

My sister shouted at Brenda’s belly, “Logan, come out on Monday September 19, my birthday!”

Logan listened to me!  He went from Spirit to flesh on Thursday September 22.  I told him to go easy on his mother, and his birth was quick.  I told him to come out at a decent hour, and he was born at 11:33 a.m.  He weighed 7.95 lbs.

How refreshing Logan’s birth is!  These past weeks I have reflected on my father’s death, and attended several funerals.  Logan’s birth is a wonderful reminder of how life goes on.


The more I mope, the more I continue to mope.   The more I continue to mope, the more I mope.  To stop moping, all I need do is DO something.  But I sabotage myself and do nothing but mope.  Moping makes me sleepy.  I can fall asleep, and avoid facing the things I am choosing to mope about . . .

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz . . .



I dreamt I was in a bar and asked a woman out by asking her, “Do you swim?”  She never answered me, but I knew that I could swim because I had asked her whether she could swim. (Dream logic?)

The bar vanished.  I was in a lake near a mountain managing to keep my head above water. The mountain looked down on me and said, “Go back to your waking life and mope.”  And then I woke up.

I don’t care how big the mountain is, I don’t like mountains telling me what to do.  I don’t like anyone telling me what to do. Whenever anyone or anything tells me what to do, I don’t do it.  So there!

I could not help waking up, and so I did part of what the mountain told me to do.  But I won’t mope because the mountain told me to do so.  The things I was moping about have not gone away, but I know I will be okay no matter what.  (More dream logic?)






I love finding uses for things that the original maker never intended or even dreamed of.  The appearance of whatever I make does not matter.  What matters is that it works.  I am practical.  As an ex-girlfriend once said, “You’re too damn practical!”  Perhaps this explains why she is an ex-girlfriend.

I needed shaving-brush holder.  I was not going to buy one when I could make one that no one else has.  I looked at a container for tofu . . .


The first attempt did not work because the brush kept slipping by the string.


I replaced the string with an elastic band, but the base was not wide enough making the holder unsteady.  Also, I needed a bigger base to catch the water from the dripping brush.


I attached a lid from a yogurt container making the base bigger.  Perfection!

I love how I played and exercised my creativity!  I love that the tofu and yogurt makers had no idea that their containers could be used to hold a shaving brush.  And I love that I am the only one in the Universe who has this shaving-brush holder!



Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 – Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953)

I disagree with Dylan Thomas.  Why not go gentle into that good night?  Why rage, rage against the dying of the light?  Death is inevitable.  Why resist it?

I accept that when Death comes, my in-box will be full.  My in-box is never empty.  There are always things that need to be done.  So when Death comes I may need groceries or need to do laundry.  Perhaps my library books will be due.  But the Universe knows what is important.  Whatever I think is important and needs to be done does not matter.  When Death comes my time is up on this planet.  Death will help me to move to a better place where there is no such thing as rap music.

I don’t entirely disagree with Dylan Thomas.  It’s not just old age that should burn and rave at the close of day.  Instead of waiting until my death day, I am burning and raving now.  I will not allow my soul to be smothered out.  The smothering of souls happens to many children as they become adults and join the rest of the flock.  I will continue to rave and play and hoot and holler and scream and stir things up!  But when Death comes, I will stop this behavior and embrace Death the way one embraces an old friend . . .

“Come in, Death, come in.  Sit down.  Thanks for coming.  How nice to see you!  How was your trip?   That’s good.  Can I get you something?  Would you like a beer, coffee or banana?  Nothing?   Yes, I know we have to leave soon.  Okay.  Just give me a moment to stop breathing and halt my heart.  Thanks.”