My World Fell Apart Again; Notes From The Train; Italian Stallion; A Little Girl Gives Comfort

Well my world fell apart again. I got a telephone call from the surgeon’s assistant telling me that my June 10, 2019 surgery had been cancelled – he is going on vacation or something. This is the second time that this has happened, or is it the third? I was so angry, screaming at the poor woman but she totally understood and was very sympathetic. I am being thrown back in limbo and there is no one to help me. But I did reach out to a man of my acquaintance and he sent a soothing email – I am soothed and grateful.

But I did manage to catch the train and I did meet some of the most incredible people. At the station there was a young man who is following his dream of becoming a major league baseball player. He is a pitcher, not a large jug with a wide mouth, formerly used for carrying water, but the guy that throws the ball from a mound toward the catcher and somebody with a bat tries to hit the ball. This young man is following his dream and it was an inspiration to meet him.

Amtrak is the nothing short of amazing. Its staff is superb, courteous, charming, helpful. They are excellently trained unlike the staff of Via Rail – now that is a story. Via Rail’s staff are responsible for me living in Vancouver. My original plan was to travel across Canada, stopping in Regina to complete the biography of my beloved uncle, Dave Dryburgh. But two misogamists (a man and a woman) conspired to have me removed from the train. So I cancelled all of my reservations and decided to live in Vancouver instead. I had high adventures and the blog soared in popularity and scope. Thanks you two misogynists, That April 2017 train left Vancouver two and a half hours late because I refused to exit the train and the police had to be called. It was not spoken of because of my determination to accent the positive, eliminate the negative and don’t mess with Mr. In-between. Another episode of my life not discussed is my first stay in Vancouver when I was thirty, some forty-five years ago. It is a story of betrayal, that was not a turning point in my life but was the grand event to the betrayers. The importance of the event to this couple was learned while I was in London. They were visiting from Berlin, now they live in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada,

I write from my roomette. In the distance are snow capped mountains, the trees close at hand are fits and pine trees. It is serve and peaceful and beautiful. I am fine but wounded, by the surgeon’s caprice. Caprice shall be the word of the day.

impossible whimsy, vagary, fancy, notion, fad, freak, humour, impulse, quirk, eccentricity, foible, crotchet, urge, whim .(His wife’s caprices and demands made his life impossible).

The train just one through a tunnel. There is still snow on the ground, dirty snow. I am going to take a shower, there is one nearby and there are towels and soap. This is but one reason why trains are much better than airplanes. Hahahaha.

This trip has not been one without problems. Something happened near Klamath

Falls and there was no power – so we were stopped and with no electricity the whole train shut down – no food service, no air conditioning, no beverage service – nothing. More than one lengthly stop took place in Oregon. I joked:

Me: We have stopped so long in Oregon that pretty soon we are going to be declared Oregon residents and we will have to pay Oregon State taxes.

A Man: I am already paying Oregon State taxes because I am a resident here.

Me: Well, lucky you!

We are stopped again, waiting for a fright train to pass. It is the longest freight train ever. Full of all kind of treasures such as lumber and oil tanker cars. I have late lunch reservations . I only hope that my tables mates are more interesting than my breakfast companions. It was mostly the wife who was negative, constrained, pessimistic and critical. If I had to wake up next to that woman every morning I would kill myself.

I have made a special friend amongst the staff. His nick name is Italian

Stallion and we have such fun together, He remembered me from my last train ride and was most pleased to see me again. I announced to passengers and crew.

Me: Italian Stallion and I are in love. It is a case of any port in a storm.

He: Alexis, you are so funny!

But we do have serious conversations. He said not to worry, that his wife is not jealous.

Me: Your wife must be interesting.

He: Well she is, but how do you know?

Me: Because you are interesting, Men with dull wives either turn dull or were dull in the first place.

He: Alexis, You are wise.

Me: Thanks! And observant.

I seem to have the ability to surround myself with good men, Almost all of my professionals , Jack, Reggio and Mario at the Inn at the Opera, the manager at the Corte Madera Best Western Inn, Chris, my computer guru, Matthew at the Rex Whistler, David and Greg, Dan the Man at my storage facility, Klaus the Realtor in Vancouver, Kris (in his own way, Grandson of Instagram fame. The list could go on and on. But typically the men to whom I am ‘romantically’ drawn are not that way – they are of a different stripe. It may be changing but I am not counting on it.

Arrival at the Seattle train station was not delayed a great deal, even with the Oregon stoppage. But then another disaster stuck. The bus that was to take us to Vancouver was decommissioned and we had to wait until one with brakes and air conditioning could be found. It was worth the wait, particularly for the brakes.

So we left Seattle a bit late. Then when crossing the border into Canada one of the passengers (not me) went into “secondary” which meant that he was searched and searched and searched and so there was yet another delay. But finally off we went. The fantastic Amtrak driver gave me a ride to my hotel. There another problem surfaced which you will hear about tomorrow.

The photo is one drawn by my dinner companion on the train. She was an absolute darling, accompanied by her two grandparents who clearly loved her. She asked me if I had a cat.

Me: I did once but my cat died and I did not want to replaced him because I loved him so much

She: how old was he when he died?

She did the math and calculated that in cat years he was 126. She drew on the paper napkins a picture of him to comfort me. How darling! How sweet! I am blessed.