Namesake says he does not read my blogs because I rant. I do occasionally rant, I do admit. but I announce it when i do and it is not a regular occurrence. I disagree with him and he has the rather charming habit of not showing up. He did not meet me in London, giving no advance or any warning. This repeats a prior occurrence in San Francisco when I made plans to be there when he was going to be there and he was a no show. But he did purchase a very touching present for me, a crystal angel. But who knows when I will get it?
Yesterday I made a momentous decision. Rather than blogging I took care of myself. It was a follow up of a difficult phone call straightening out the billing practices of Virgin American Airlines who are getting out of the business of credit cards and frequent flier miles. It is an extreme mess but I am reaching resolution on the matter and it makes me feel good. I have decided to take better care of myself which will entail reaching out to positive people in my life rather than addictively blogging.
Another huge advantage of becoming a born again Canadian is that now I listen to a magnificent pod cast, a CBC production called Ideas. This has supplanted my prior adherence to Terry Gross’ Fresh Air. The topics on Ideas are far more interesting and approached in a very complex manner. A recent one was dealt with sleep in a fascinating way. Someone suggested that the purpose of life is to sleep and that all our wakeful activity is merely to provide the environment for sleep. One must work to buy the bed, the sheets and indeed the house or apartment to place the sleeping utensils in an environment conducive to rest. I rather like the thought. I need no longer search for the meaning in life – the meaning is sleep.
Thank goodness my insomnia problems seem resolved. I have begun to remember my powerful dreams and they are leading me in the paths of righteousness. When I awake I write the remembered dream and then relate to it. Last night I dreamt of a woman who I have known for about forty years and pondered why she was in my dreams as she was a peripheral figure in my life. I think it was because she was rich, not Joo Kim rich, but rich. Her money alienated her from all others just as his does. I made the analysis and it allowed me to be a little forgiving toward him. I have been extremely angry and I do need to lighten up. It worked. I love my dreams. I even had a forgiving dream about my mother who is decidedly not my favorite person in the world. I told Cousin Gail about the dream in detail. It is rather miraculous actually.
I write about my relationship with my mother in the July 14, 2017 and July 16, 2017 posts. I just reread it – powerful stuff. It is not a rant at all, Namesake. If I can find it in my heart to forgive my mother my life will be easier. So I am working on it.
The plans for the Risotto Cook Off are coming along. Giovanni and I talked yesterday and we both are deadly serious about it. I am learning so much about him, such a fascinating man. So he has connections and we will have someone from the Italian consulate be one of the judges. We will benefit two separate charities – one he picks and one I pick. I think I know the one I am going to choose and it has significant meaning to me. I will tell the underlying story in a blog to come. Here is the secret. This is not the first time I lived in Vancouver but came here when I was thirty. It was such a dreadful experience that I repressed it but the memories are still intact. I lived in Kits and I had a job, working for the Canadian Penitentiary Service (as it was called then). I gave it all up and returned to San Francisco as I could not bear the misery. It was definitely the right move for me as I subsequently went to law school at night which paved the way for my future as a retiree living again in Vancouver. Hardly anyone in my life knows of this chapter in my life. It will make interesting reading, but first of all I have to write it. hahahaha
There will be three pictures attached to this blog, all remnants of my late lunch at Italian Kitchen. One shows the sneaky lengths they went to disguising vegetables (they look like sausages, boy was I surprised.) The next is the plate that once held tiramasseu, (the best I have ever eaten in my whole life) and the last is of me having a coffee. It was, of course, delicious and I had such a great time. (as usual).
