21:58 - 02/25/2009
Communing
I think there must be a portal to a parallel dimension in my basement. That is where the laundry room is. In it, things of a purple persuasion often disappear only to reappear days or weeks later in the most bizarre locations, in other parts of the house. You know, like up on a ledge in the stairway. My favorite socks are the most likely items to cross that portal's threshhold, but occasionally towels and other small fabric creations float away as well. Can't blame the cats for it, since they aren't allowed in the "clean" room. Hmmmm. When we first moved into this house, I used to get visions of a first nations warrior - Blackfoot - riding his pony along a path on an escarpment that somehow led into my basement. No, I was never impaired. Having six little boys to role model for meant no naughty behaviour on my part whenever they were awake - which, between six of them, meant 24 hours per day. The warrior had lived in this area long before the arrival of European travellers. He always seemed quite angry when he would appear in the house. It wasn't an unreasoning, spooky type of anger either. It was more that idea of unfinished business somewhere nearby, that seemed to draw him here. Wherever "here" was for him. If you see what I mean. Someplace that was sacred and cherished in his eyes, I guess. I started burning sweet grass when he was around as a strong presence. That seemed to mellow him out. Maybe I'll have to start doing that again. Or at least ask that he not borrow my favorite purple socks.
I've had a couple of assignments since last I wrote to you. Not very long hours, but at least something. The first at a sports outlet; a pleasant evening's work. A lot of the people I enjoy working with there made it a comfortable atmosphere in which to be. The store staff doing the auditing were discreetly present, but neither interactive nor hostile. The machine I was using was doing some bizarre data management of it's own. When it lost a whole shelf of scanning, even after I completed another shelf - truly, one of the people I trained was watching me as I was working - I asked to trade up to a safer model. Not the weirdest performing computer by far that night either. One of the male counters had one that kept recalculating his totals. He and one of our best counters worked together redoing one shelf a few times, each getting the same number using that machine as the data capture tool. Each time, the machine would then recalculate the total to be significantly less than the actual amount. Ghosts in the machine too.
My youngest has been watching the movie "Tron" over and over, so maybe another type of portal/dimension has opened up as a result, eh? Maybe it goes where I go. Certainly both of us seem to be drawn back several years to times when we were very happy; him as a child and me as a teen/young mom. Don't know what that signifies - if anything - but it is nice for those long-buried memories to become more dominant in our lives now. I do know that now, for my own comforting, I really feel the need to read out loud again, even if there are no longer any young sons to listen - the cats love stories after all. A+ has also been holding me whenever I ask and that helps a great deal too. Letting go of all that negative energy that has been around for so long and embracing something new, I guess, would be the symbolism. Maybe the positive energy it releases in each of us will attract more of the same. So say all the pop psychology pundits right now.
Next assignment was last evening. Hardware store. One of my co-workers was telling me how long it took him to walk to the store from his home, when we arrived at the same time about half an hour before shift began. The ambient air temperature was hovering somewhere around -30 C with the wind chill. He was so desperate for income that he was willing to put in four or five extra hours of walking just to make less than what some people would blow off on a restaurant dinner in one evening. I was only scheduled for one other assignment this week, so I gave him my other two bus tickets so he wouldn't have to be walking in -33 C weather around 3 in the am to get home or to the next job. As it turned out, the manager of the count invited us both to work the next shift - even though neither of us had been scheduled for it - the next day. I guess, because we had both shown the initiative and interest to arrive early. I think he might also have overheard us both discussing how hard we were finding it financially to survive on the work hours we had been given this month and wanted to help. I ended up not going back today, partly because I didn't have enough money to get more bus tickets, but also because I knew that if I didn't go today then the other counter would be able to get a few more hours pay. He obviously needed the money even more than me if he was willing to walk to each and every assignment in this frigid weather. I wish I could help more, but I really don't have anything else I can give him without making it impossible for me to work. My lungs start shutting down fairly quickly in this type of weather, you see, so I can't walk outside for as long as he can.
The work last night was really grimy and dirty, but at least there were no mice evident. Good thing, since I ended up having to climb into the bottom shelving to retrieve product that had fallen behind for two or three of the tags I counted. Those shelves must be a good 6 feet (2 meters) wide. At one point, the crew manager asked if I was napping on the job, laughter coming through loudly. All any of the rest of the crew could see of me was the tips of my runners peeking out where they were gripped around the lip of that one shelf. I hadn't wanted to disappear from view completely, after all. When I re-emerged, I was covered in dust from head to foot. My face looked as though I had been preparing for some sort of outdoor orienteering event - the better to cover the wind burn I had gotten while walking to work. Well, it did make everyone else laugh. A lot of the people I had trained earlier in the year were assigned to work last night, so I spent a fair amount of time helping them with their computers or answering questions about how to proceed. The requirements of this client are vastly different than at other stores, which was rather confusing for them. I also spent a fair amount of time up on ladders as well, since the "lower" shelving still extended up to 10 feet (3 meters). As it was, I still had to ask for help sometimes, because the bar codes were on the top of some very heavy boxes - sump pumps anyone? We aren't allowed to climb in the racking, but the store's staff don't have such a restriction. The people we worked with were all very friendly and helpful, so it made our jobs much simpler. No obstruction like in some of the other places I've mentioned. Got home just in time to hear the weather man talk about that really cold weather. No end in sight for the next couple of days.
My youngest coped with the return to the deep freeze by crawling under a pile of blankets this evening, eating comfort food (kraft dinner and tuna, y'all) while watching comfort videos - Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back. "I'll Never join You!" That's just before Darth Vader cut off Luke's arm, I think. I think I noticed "Flight of the Navigator" in the hopper at one point too - "Compliance". I spent time this evening loading more music from my cds onto my computer, while chatting, through various media, with family and friends - Facebook, email, MSM, cell phone and, oh yes, Telephone. Chats with cousins and nephews. One friend sending a care package via number two and six sons on the weekend. We had a really good political discussion by phone after that, just catching up on our common interests, while also discussing her, and her family's, medical travails. Discussion about international issues. Commenting that the reaction to the new US president has all been very positive in most of the country. Who couldn't love a guy who stops to go shopping for his wife and daughters in the local market, even in the midst of an official visit. I'm not certain his security people felt as good about it, but it was a thrill for those who were near enough to witness him trying out Canadian delicacies, like beaver tail. Well, maybe you had to be there.
This week I've even had face to face chats with sons one and two, who were paying their compliments the much appreciated old-fashioned way (thanks for the reassurance Bubba). My Dad had called to ask about what his doctor had said about his injury. You see, even though my Dad is in better physical shape than most people half his age, he still has to be careful with heavy physical tasks now. He was shovelling that really heavy,wet snow back at the end of last year and apparently damaged a nerve in his hip. At least that is what the doctor's note translated to once I searched the internet for the terms he wrote down for my Dad. My Dad wanted to know what I thought of the proposed treatment. We discussed it for a while, looking at the various alternatives. My Dad opted for a wait and see - rest - tactic for the time being. Nerves being slowest to repair or regenerate when damaged. Can't push the river.
The only upset in my little world - other than not enough work/money - is that continued saga of internet censorship. Explain to me why newsletters I receive from the one law firm would be considered "dangerous". Yes, I know about the lawyer jokes, but that notwithstanding, they contain some of the most informative material I receive. The only one of their missives that isn't censored by my email host? The one that carries press releases and stories about the Canadian Government. Now, some of those people are a danger to my welfare and my mental health. They actually miss the old US president, you see. I don't trust anyone who rattles sabres, let alone uses them - that over 30 crowd, don't you know. A couple of the well respected alternate media newsletters carry the same warning from the same email host, with some of their stories actually blocked when I try to open them. I know bad words in several languages, thanks to living in a multicultural community for decades, but I never did learn to spell any of them. Guess I can't use them in a protest missive anyway or I'd be lowering myself to the censors' level, eh? Maybe some of those censors should try doing something useful with their lives, like helping eradicate child poverty, stop human trafficking, or bring about world peace. Could be done. Hmmmmmmmmmm.
Dreams have been frequent, but I don't recall all of them. One about being in an alpine setting - maybe in mainland Europe. Chalets on the slopes. Mountain meadows in full bloom. A group of us climbing to the peak of one mountain. Stopping near a cairn commemorating some major acheivement, long ago. All of a sudden the mountain peak crumbling, as tremblors strike from an earthquake in the valley below. A helicopter coming to the rescue, pulling four of us to safety. One person refusing to leave, because they fear that there might not be ground lower down after the quake. Then the scene shifts and a number of counters, A+, and I are in "Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe" counting - and repairing - antiques. Absolutely fascinating wares, but the proprietor reminds me of something out of Sweeney Todd. No overt violence, but just this strange aura and a sense of not ever wanting to be alone, either in that shop, or with him. That segues again, when a woman enters the store from the back room or another shop connected to the curio store. She says it is imperative that she speak with me privately. She wants to unmask the evil the curio dealer is involved in. She has escaped from his clutches and wants to stop him from causing the same harm to others, she says. Then she tells me that I need to change from talking about the severe air pollution caused by corporate malfeasance - industrial revolution topic - and instead talk about the more modern age degradation, that of water contamination and theft by those same polluters. Apparently the danger from that is even greater. She is explaining where to find the information and proof I need to expose the proprietor when he returns to the shop and spies us talking together. We both flee for our lives and I wake up.
Hopefully tonight's dreams will be of happier things. Good night dear diary.
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