Me: Waiting for the damn computer to charge so that I can get back to writing
He: You can use the computer whilst it charges no?
Me: Yes silly but I write in bed best. I mean I have to be doing something in bed other than sleeping. That was a sexual innuendo.
So I guess it is time to define innuendo. It is: an allusive or oblique remark or hint, typically a suggestive or disparaging one: she’s always making sly innuendoes | a constant torrent of innuendo, gossip, lies, and half-truths.
This texting took place yesterday which was a pajama day characterized by a day in nightclothes, homebound, writing. Later in the day this missile;
Me: I wrote 2,000 words for the book and wrote the blog. What about you lazy?
So this is not the polished version but it is getting there. The beginning of the end.
LOVE FOUND IN A STRANGE PLACE, AT A STRANGE TIME, UNCER UNLIKELY CIRCUMSTANCES
Once upon a time in a faraway place a man and a woman enjoyed the following conversation.
She: By the way, do you play soccer?
He: Of course I play soccer! You did not know that?
She: Sort of, but the reason it struck me was that Uncle Dave was a soccer player, an excellent one. His career stemmed from his soccer playing. So I guess you are reincarnated him. Hahahahaha
He: Imagine that
She: It does take some imagination. Hahahahaha This will start the beginning of the book I am inspired.
He: Brilliant
She: I am.
Modern technology allowed this conversation tests on their respective iPhones. The two met at a gym – a posh one on West Georgia Street in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. They were scarcely age contemporaries – she 75 and he 31. She born in Canada, actually in the same city where Dave Dryburgh achieved his fame – Regina Saskatchewan. She the eldest. He was born in Swindon, an English village not far from London. He extremely athletic, fascinated with sports from an early age. She, not at all athletic, eschewed sports – a book worm and then an intellectual accumulating degrees as well as husbands. He was degreed, a degree in physical therapy. He came to Canada to seek his fortune; she left Canada to seek her fortune. So, to say the very least, dissimilar. Their relationship unusual, to say the very least.
She: It is like you are the mother and I am the willful child.
He: Willful, you can say that again.
Of the two he the more stable despite a New World history of moving about. She led, in many ways a constrained life – employed most of her life working in various capacities for the County of Marin, the municipality where she resided (in various residences from 1971 until 2014. But when they first met, this unlikely couple, she was terribly unstable having left London, England at the expiration of her student visa, finding herself quite accidentally, on West Georgia Street three door down from the gym where they met. She joined the gym for nefarious purposes and asked for a personal trainer with three essentials.
1 He had to be good looking so that she would be motivated to come to the gym – she rather disliking them through gym memberships (at least( had sprinkled her life. Attendance a bit spotty.
2 He had to have knowledge about knees, as arthritic knees were a presenting problem, stairs almost an impossibility
3 She wanted someone with a British accent as she was missing London and her previous trainer in London, had a British accent.
So a man, (whose nickname later became Member Man) recommended the man who later became known as Hottie and then Sir Richard of Hot and the training and the relationship began. The relationship that enabled her to complete a book that had been three and a half years in the making. The biography of Dave Dryburgh, Saskatchewan sports writer, had slowly evolved and had become the story of a relationship, the relationship between the uncle, dead since 1948 and the niece, five when he died. She had no memory of ever meeting him and by the time she ‘found” him and began the book there was no one alive to ask – if they had met and there were no pictures showing the two together. She later confessed to a fellow cousin’s husband that she had made him up – that Dave Dryburgh was a fiction. But Hottie/Sir Richard gave him substance, gave him life, made him real. For, she decided in 2018 that he was her uncle reincarnated and then she had to first find out about reincarnation. As you will learn as this book progressed in backwards fashion she learned about spiritualism because her uncle appeared to her in Cloverdale, British Columbia. She studied nature and nurture, the effects of red hair, early sibling loss and so much else as she strove to connect to Dave Dryburgh. But this reincarnation, was the final and hence the first chapter. As she writes this chapter she is aware that she knows beans about reincarnation so it is off to the library she goes. In her London days it was the British Library that became her font of knowledge. Here it is the Vancouver Public Library, a noble institution located just three blocks from her apartment. A hop, skip and a jump away. Even snow, sleet and rain will not deter this fiercely ambitious woman – a trait she shares with her uncle and perhaps with Hottie/Sir Richard of Hot.
But, even early in the game, this hoped for reincarnation fell into disrepute.
She wrote the ‘wished for’ reincarnated Uncle Dave.
She: Reading about reincarnation but thought of a ‘minor’ problem. You have dyslexia, right? I am positive that Uncle Dave did not. Back to the drawing board. Hahahaha
He: Dyslexia would not have been diagnosed back then though
She: Yes, but he wrote prolifically apparently typing error free. I do not think that would be possible but maybe?? So perhaps dyslexia only operates in reading and not in writing? Damn, so much to learn, so little time. Hahahaha It is back to the research on reincarnation.
So I have learned that if I am able to create I need emotional support. At this moment I have it although most of my life I did not. The reincarnation theory helps me and it does not hurt anyone.
The picture that accompanies this is a drawing taken from a book used for my research. It is a drawing by Nelly Pogany found in a 1934 translation of an Indian holy book. It illustrates the old life dying a new life being born. I resemble the new, he/she is cute.
