Legalize it!

LegalizeWeed It’s official! The gov’t announced it: recreational weed will be legalized on 17 October! (It’s already legal for medical purposes, such as what I have and use it for). The date is significant too, at least for us, as it’s the day right in-between 2 of the kids’ birthdays; the oldest’s and the fifth child’s! Wasn’t that just so thoughtful and considerate of them to do it on that day? It was originally supposed to be on 1 July but you know everything with the gov’t always takes longer. Peter Tosh would be so pleased: it’ll be legalized! I can just imagine on 17 October this huge haze of smoke wafting over the entire country in unison!  😀

Screenshot_809 They said on the news as well this country will only be the second country in the world to legalize it(after the Netherlands) along with several U.S states. Usually we’re one of the last to do or get anything and always lag behind other countries in progress and availability of goods and services so it’s a surprise that this time we’re actually one of the first. Soon you will be able to go to dispensaries anywhere and buy it(and in Newfoundland they will even be selling it in the grocery store, so you can pick it up at the same time along with your bread and milk), although they will still be controlled and regulated by the gov’t(and only by certain approved gov’t issued growers and suppliers) because Big Brother always has to interfere with, oversee and control everything in our lives, Nanny State that it is. Free the ganja!

As well, yesterday my hubby had to go to Toronto for work( he’s already started his new job!) and he was gone all day and I never even saw him all day and it was a nice break for me and much less stress with him not here, other than the 11 YR old who had this major blind rage screaming and melting down(even threatening to kill everyone!) being told he had to help the other kids clean(since it is their mess , all their toys and crap all over the place) in preparation for moving(he’s been so pampered and spoiled by my mother he doesn’t think he should have to do any work) and the other kids call it his Autistic  Freak-outs, and one thing I actually will miss about the country(even though I’m glad to be moving back to a city again) when we move is the nice country smell in the summer; the smell of wildflowers, clover, and milkweed. It always reminds me of the cottage when I was a kid and brings back happy childhood memories.

I also think the neighbours next door must have a kennel, or more likely, a puppy mill, knowing them, as every time anyone goes near their driveway area you can hear all kinds of dogs barking like crazy and it sounds like there’s so many, like at least a couple of dozen of them and they sound like they’re all different sized dogs,too, common in a puppy mill,various breeds, and equally suspicious is even though I often hear all the barking(and the 23 YR old said he’s heard it as well so I know I’m not hallucinating or imagining it) I’ve never actually seen any of the dogs, never seen any of them running out in the yard or being taken out for a walk; it’s like they’re all being hidden away inside…. I wonder…

SayWhat It’s one of those things that makes you go……hmmmmmm….



Holy Shit, Our Old House!


This photo appeared in the Toronto Star newspaper following the massive storm the other day(we got 29 mm rain in just 20 minutes and 90 km wind) and when I saw it I exclaimed, That’s my old house! It never gave the exact address but I recognized it right away. It just has a few changes(new windows at the front livingroom and brick border along the lawn) over the past 35 years or so but I’d recognize it anywhere and in the news article it did say it was in the Upper Beaches area which was where we lived and on the TV news they said the worst of the storm damage hit Gerrard and Woodbine Sts and that’s our old neighbourhood so it must be! When I look closer at the photo in more detail the garage at the back and the neighbour’s next door is the same as well so it must be our old house!

When we lived there(the house was 85 when we lived there) my mother and I always wondered if and when that big tree in the front of the house might come crashing down one day onto the house during a storm…..well, it looks like it finally has, along with tearing up the entire lawn with it. I showed my mother this photo and she agreed that it sure looks like our old house and she thinks it is too.It was the strangest thing though, to see my old house in the newspaper, and to see what happened to it after that big storm. Hopefully whoever lives there now has insurance that will cover it. When we moved I know a doctor bought it but I don’t know who might have it now; I’m sure it must have gone thru a few owners since 1984 when I left.

As well, the 15 YR old starts her new job today but it’s not actually a job technically since it’s volunteer. It’s working at a thrift store(I call the Peasant Store) that sells second-hand stuff run by Bibles For Missions, and I hope she likes it and it will be good for her; good for her to get out and socialize, good for her confidence and hopefully help in her recovery which is going really well, and I transplanted my sunflowers outside into the garden and I hope they take root and grow strong and survive and don’t end up trampled by the raccoons, dug up by the squirrels, eaten by the birds or bugs, etc.and my hubby told me the second-oldest wants to get a motorcycle and has ever since she was 16. I remember when my friend G used to take me out for rides on his motorcycle when I was 21. It was so much fun, so exhilarating and I just loved it.My mother’s MRI is also booked for the third week of July and she laments, I don’t think I can hold on that long….. and maybe also by then it will just  resolve and heal up by itself and there won’t even be anything left to show up on the MRI so she still won’t find out what’s causing her pain!

My hubby also chewed me out because I forgot to put the oven mitt back in the kitchen when I took it into another room to carry hot food even though I’m the one busy doing all the cooking, laundry, washing dishes, doing garbage and recycling, etc. while he does nothing around the house so if it really bothers him that much then he can put it away himself, or else he can do all my  work instead while I take the time to put the oven mitt away, the bastard! It’s like he looks for every little thing he can find to criticize me and put me down for, to pick apart and tear me apart and he jumps at every single thing I do wrong or forget in order to mock, berate and demean me. He also had the kids clean their mess in the rec-room preparing to move and they’re throwing everything out, even perfectly good toys and clothes that could be donated to the less-fortunate and it makes me sad; we spent good money on them and they just throw them out? Things should be divided into 3 piles: throw out, keep, and donate, but they just blindly throw everything out(because it’s faster and easier) without even checking to see what it is or who it belongs to.


IMG_1380[1] Now it’s the long weekend in May and safe from frost traditionally I planted the sunflower seeds for my garden this year. I hope they work though and the birds don’t eat the seeds before they have a chance to grow. I have them poolside, leaning up against the fence. I’m looking forward to it so I hope they work, and I put an entire pack of seeds in, allowing for likely half to die so we’ll see how many flowers I end up with and if I die before they bloom in late summer then every time my family sees them they can remember me by my sunflower garden.Every time they see the sunflowers they can think of me.

We also had a BBQ and if today is my last day alive I had a good day; I planted sunflowers, I smelled lilacs; I spent it outside with the 11 YR old who was bouncing on the trampoline and when I took Buddy out for his walks the lilacs were out on the neighbours’ and I could smell their sweet fragrance every time I went by and I love the rhythm of the neighbourhood as I go on our walks too and don’t want to move. The girls tried to cut my hubby’s hair too only they forgot to put the clipper on the razor so now he has some bald patches(it’s really noticeable too but he can always wear a hat for a couple of weeks until it grows back in) and when I came home from church yesterday and got undressed I noticed I’d worn my blouse inside-out the entire time, but it was one of those gauze, flowy, embroidered “Peasant” blouses so it sort of looks the same way either way so hopefully no one even noticed…

Cupcakes The 16 YR old also baked these “sundae” cupcakes and most people thought they were too sweet but that’s the point. Buddy and I loved them. I also heard this song on my radio last night when I was in bed from The Who (one of my fave. bands) I recognized from when I was a kid and it brought back happy nostalgic memories and I wanted to get it for my iPod only I didn’t know the title and only remembered a few words from the lyrics this morning when I got up and they have literally hundreds of songs so it was really hard trying to find it and then the inspiration just suddenly popped into my head, Check under Pete Townshend…. as he was the main writer for most of their songs…..and sure enough, I found it! It was actually one of his  solo songs, and not from The Who as such, which was why I was having so much trouble finding it before as I was checking under the band name. The name of the song is Let My Love Open The Door, BTW, in case you were wondering.

I also see the gastro doc this week and he’ll have answers to my tests such as the scan to see if I do have blocked bile ducts or any other liver issues and if the genetic test came back positive for the liver enzyme that also affects the lungs so hopefully I’ll have some answers but I fear it’ll be the same as always; they’ll say that all the tests came back normal and still no explanation for my symptoms and pain…then the week after I see the cardiologist, the handsome Egyptian guy and I will be nervous and awkward for that app’t because he’s just so hot and I’ll be distracted and it’ll be hard for me to be able to concentrate on what he’s saying to me when all I can think about is how much I want to f*ck him and imagining kissing every inch of his glorious bronzed body….oh, my God…..



trillium I knew the answer  to a question they had to a call-in contest on the radio: What is the official flower of Ontario? – the trillium.(seen here). I will never forget it and will always remember it as it is connected to one of my first acts, if not, the first act, of rebellion against authority. I remember how during a nature walk in the woods once at camp the counsellor explained to us all the various different trees and plants and pointed out trilliums saying how they’re the official provincial flower and so on and how the gov’t made a law that it’s illegal to pick them……so, of course, me, being the little rebel that I am, and always was, guess what I did? When everyone’s backs were turned and no one was looking I discreetly bent down and plucked one up, smirking with satisfaction to myself, thrilled and empowered with my bold, courageous, rebellious act of sedition! This was my first(of many) show of defiance against the gov’t telling us what to do, making Fascist and often stupid laws, curtailing our freedoms, imposing upon our lives, and so I begun my life-long journey of civil disobedience( ha ha) just like that, with the plucking of a trillium flower; my first thumbing my nose at Big Brother,showing a sign of defiance and silent protest, beginning a long tradition of sticking it to The Man. 😀

I’ve always been a rebel.

The 15 YR old also has a birthday today and I hope and pray with all my heart that she has a good day esp. since, like me, ever since she broke, life has changed for her and she is a different person than she once was it’s hard now for her to be happy and the slightest thing sets her off. Losing the closeness and the loving relationship I once had with her(not my choice) is one of my biggest losses and regrets in life as well and when I really think about it, most of my regrets in life are all based on love, and loss of love, be it unrequitted love( I love people that never loved me back) or lost friendships( and the regret that they could never be mended again, even when I tried) or broken relationships( such as with my mother once I had kids, or with my kids once they got older and I got more traumatized and damaged over the years and they started hating me) everything is always about love and love is the main, and most important thing in life, and the loss of love is the most painful and most regretful thing.

We also figured that Patti must have tightened her Facebook privacy settings so that only her friends can see what she posts now since we’re not seeing any more new posts but there’s always still a way around it; there’s always another way, and I’m so slow now that even Buddy, who’s an old dog at 12, walks faster than I do. That really makes me feel old, as does realizing that many of my school friends are now grandparents and that many of my own kids’ friends they had as teens as now all grown up and are married and have kids of their own, and now instead of reading the birth notices in the paper to see if there’s anyone I know I find myself reading the death notices!

Funny,too: the 11 YR old made up a new word: he mixed up kilometres( which we use) with miles( that his school books use as it’s American) and he said kilomiles  and as I was lazing in the sun with Buddy it brought back a happy childhood memory of a simpler time,too; of  childhood summers of me at either the cottage or visiting relatives in the country, the adults all sitting out on the veranda talking and me laying on my stomach on the porch swing on the wooden country porch, still barefoot and in my bathingsuit, with one leg and one arm dangling down, still sweaty, sunburned, wet, and sandy from a day at the creek, gently rocking back and forth as the breeze blows past and the sun sets, enjoying the sights and sounds of wildflowers, fresh cut grass and the chirping of birds and cicadas in the lazy summer heat, just blissfully drifting away, no cares in the world, a perfect day, the perfect feeling, just the joy of life, the joy of living, the joy of life,and the love of living. I really miss that. I miss that feeling, that serenity, that joy.When life was good and worth living. When I used to be happy.


Screen Shot 01-18-18 at 06.17 PM The 10 YR old was playing Splatoon and his opponent’s colour was a bright orange, the exact same shade that was my fave. colour when I was a kid, the same as seen in the photo here. It reminded me of my childhood, esp. when I was 4 and 5, and I had clothing, incl. matching socks, in my fave. colour and in school I would even colour in animals a bright orange and I can still remember my mother and I were living with my aunt, uncle,and cousins at the time, and one of their foster kids at the time who was a teenager, went to USA and she brought me back a bright orange piggy bank, knowing how much I loved the colour,and it was one of my fave toys and I never forgot about it, even to this day.

That was such a special time in my life when we lived with them, it was such a crowded house, there were 10 of us living there, 7 of us kids, and 3 adults and it felt like I had siblings and I was part of a big family and it was wonderful. Of the kids I was the youngest and the others were teens, incl. 3 of my 4 cousins( the oldest was married and moved out) and my aunt and uncle’s 3 foster kids. One of the foster kids was mean and used to beat me up(I can still clearly remember her smacking me around and throwing me off the couch so hard I’d bounce off and hit the floor) so I just tried to avoid her but other than that it was a great time in my life I will always remember fondly, and where I had a sense of belonging. It was hard later when we moved out on our own and I was a lonely only child again.

I also remember that in Jr. High and Highschool the office demanded everyone’s combination code for their lockers and I refused to give my real one, not that I ever had anything to hide but I thought it was a gross violation of privacy and of my rights so in silent protest I just always gave them a fake, made up one every year. They were never the wiser but I still got this secret satisfaction knowing that I would never submit,and I have always stuck it to The Man and stood up to authority and any time I saw an injustice or oppression, incl. standing up to teachers I deemed Fascist, one of the most memorable ones being my art teacher in grade 11. I still don’t remember what she said or did but she was unfairly treating me for something or other and I told her off, even though I knew I’d probably get into alot of shit for it….I can still remember, it was on a Friday afternoon and I worried all weekend what might befall me once I came back on Monday, but I still shrugged it off even so thinking No matter what she does to me, even if I get suspended, it will still be worth it….but as it turned out she did nothing, and nothing more was ever mentioned about it .I’ve always been a rebel, ha, ha.

The 14 YR old also says lust is my biggest sin although in actual reality gluttony is my biggest sin, although lust is probably my second-biggest sin, with all the lustful fantasies I have, usually about hot guys that are way out of my league that I have no chance with ever and that barely even know I walk the face of the Earth, but still, I can dream, can’t I, and besides, my fantasies keep me going,and what’s life without hopes and dreams,right? I know I’ll never have it in real life but my imagination is the best I can do.




Screen Shot 01-17-18 at 05.11 PM It seems that I’ve been running my entire life. Always wanting to be somewhere other than where I am, restless, longing, wanting to run away from who I am, from myself, from where I am, always wanting to be someone else; anyone else rather than me, reinventing myself, trying to run away from and escape my life, myself, all the trauma and pain in my life, trying to escape all my self-loathing and self hatred, my lack of self confidence and self-esteem. I have been running from my enemy, from my past, from my memories, myself, my hurt, my pain, my brokenness, my life.

It started when I was molested as a kid from ages 4-12, and then from the years of bullying as a young teen,and then only carried on, continued,and worsened with being rejected and unloved, outcast and undesirable as an adult, plus trying to hide and run away from my Asperger’s, social phobia, bipolar, and depression, and all the traumas, misfortunes, bad luck, failures, failed hopes and dreams, disappointments, and general overall misery and  f*cked-up-ed-ness in life, it just took a toll after awhile until I couldn’t do it anymore and just shut down, eventually dropping out of life pretty much completely.

Just keep running….

That’s why I look forward so much to Heaven. I will be healed and made whole. I won’t look like this or feel like this anymore. I will accept myself and maybe, just maybe, even be able to love myself, or if not, at least be okay with myself and with being me, and not be beaten down by self hatred and always wanting to run away from who I am, change who I am, hide who I am, re-do who I am, etc. I will feel loved, valued, included, good enough, welcome, a sense of belonging,self acceptance, worthy, happy, fitting in, and everything else that I’ve never felt here in my life. I will no longer have the instinctual need to run and hide in fear from danger; I will instead have something to run to and not away from,and no one will ever make fun of me or make me feel badly about myself ever again. I will find peace.

The Finger.

Screen Shot 01-09-18 at 06.01 PM 001 While I was cutting an English muffin in half with the “saw” knife I also accidently sliced my finger. It wasn’t a big cut but it was deep and it really bled, and it opened up and you could see the layers of “meat” inside. It also took forever to stop bleeding, 45 minutes to be exact because I timed it. I thought it would never stop. I really thought I’d have to go to the hospital and get stitches and whatever else they do to make the bleeding stop but I just kept applying pressure to it(even though initially the more pressure I applied the more blood squirted out) and even putting that “stick” on that you wet and that stings like a bitch but stops bleeding still didn’t even work….holy shit, then I was starting to panic,this really isn’t how I wanted to spend my morning and certainly not sitting for hours in the ER, but eventually it finally did stop bleeding and I just glued it together. It didn’t even hurt at the beginning when I first did it, though; I noticed the blood first, and now it’s throbbing and stings. Of course it’s my index finger too, and do you know how hard it is to try and function everyday daily tasks without the use of your index finger? Even typing and scrolling down with the computer mouse is affected and takes at least twice as long…..aaarrrggghhh!

I also bought a new cannabis oil  and the brand is from none other than Snoop Dogg himself! If anyone knows a thing or two about good quality weed it would be this guy so I trust in good faith that it’s a good-quality product. The 23 YR old told me too that Snoop Dogg at a concert smoking a doobie lit it up, inhaled it all, in it’s entirety in one puff, and held it in for over a minute before exhaling this huge plume of smoke….now that’s impressive, esp. considering it takes me some 7-8 or so “drags” to consume an entire joint….that man is my hero! 😀  My hubby and the 14 and 16 YR olds also ask in disgust why I “talk so much” about my weed and not about my other medications but the truth is, the weed is funnier and a hell of alot more, well, interesting, let’s say, and has more interesting side-effects than my other meds do, and besides, what’s so funny and cool about depression pills or pills for high BP or stomach ulcers,anyway?

They still haven’t plowed the sidewalks out from all the snow yet either so Buddy has to go out in the path in the backyard I shovelled him to pee but as he went out half-way onto the porch(before even stepping down the stairs onto the yard) he heard that hawk back again, wailing above ,and I heard it too, and he just stood there and froze and gave me a look, as if he was thinking, NO f*cking way in Hell, man! I’m not going out here with that thing out there! and he abruptly turned around and quickly ran back inside without ever even going pee….and then the smart dog ran over to the front door  and stood there looking up at me, telling me to take him out the front, which I did. Now, is that smart, or what?

I heard on the news as well about a fatal fire and 3 kids died but both parents made it out ok and this always gets me really mad: what kind of parent leaves their kids behind? You rescue the kids first and only then do you get out yourself, and you take them with you, you’re the last one out, not the first,and if they’re trapped and you can’t get them out, then you stay behind with them but you don’t leave your kids behind and with our fire my mother and I were the last ones out ( my hubby was away at a friend’s at the time) and we only escaped once we made sure that all 6 kids(at the time) were safely out first. I don’t know how they could live with themselves otherwise, leaving their own kids behind to die like that, hearing them screaming for help until the screams eventually stop….that’s just beyond comprehension…