What? Locked up?

 

Years ago, I drove to Calgary, for a 'holiday of visits.' I didn't really know some of the people I dropped in on but... someone else's acquaintances are always a adventure of possibilities. 

So, we found our way to an address we'd never been to and the adventure began.

Now, we were all Christians and yet... we attended different, well, denominations? Yes, I think that is the right word... same faith but core values might have been interpreted a little bit differently.

Well, someone I knew, who knew one of these families, had warned me to keep my purse close to my side. I laughed, thinking she was being a bit dramatic. Did she really think a sofa sit down would lead to a purse snatching? Then I thought, I don't have enough in my purse to make it worth snatching. 

The conversations began and there was a healthy, rowdy interchange of what you do, how you earn a living, where you attend church... when a slight movement by my hip made me pause and I noticed my purse moving away from me. I looked over at the offender, smiled, pulled my purse onto my lap and the evening continued without harm. I had been duly warned and my reaction time was 'timely.'

I was thinking about what I serve when I have company... pie, pie, pie... when I noticed padlocks in strange places... I thought, well, that does not look like a pie safe to me! And, even if it was a pie safe, no rodent is going to need a padlock to keep those pests out. So, who are the padlocks supposed to keep out? 

I was feeling a bit uneasy about this so I used the bathroom... when I get a bit 'uncomfortable' in strange settings I just use the bathroom to resettle myself. As I walked past the kitchen, I saw padlocks on the cupboards and then I knew there was definitely something wrong here.

Now, I can understand if you've got a really bad 'renter type' of person living in your house who doesn't respect boundaries... Whew! I've heard more 'renter hell' stories than you can imagine! 

So, I thought about a tea towel I bought one time. "... and a good book...," well, I thought, these people need the good book. Then I thought, they have the good book. They should just read it.

So, the evening wore on and I thought about the saying... 'they're eating me out of house and home...,' and I know some people can eat a lot but I never had that problem, with any of my children. So, I thought, maybe there isn't enough. 

Now, not enough! That is always a problem. My Mom and Dad worked sun- up to sundown, in summer, to make sure we had enough in winter.

These days, when I think about how wonderful life was with my boys... they loved to eat, I loved it when they would eat... my Mom was like that, too. So was Dad. They prepared so much food each time we 'got together,' they assembled little packages and sent those home with us as well. 

Weren't we blessed to always have enough? 

I was a very sane and generous and healthy thinking person and, I assure you, I never locked up the food. 

What a privilege to live in a country where we have enough and we don't have to behave like people did during famine or times of conflict.

If you have enough, make sure your children have enough, too. That is a very Christian thing to do.

From my day, my beef

 

This is 3 Donegal Bay, in Winnipeg. I sold the armoire  to someone who hauled it out to the country, east of Winnipeg. (I think I bought it in 2008/ 2009 when I owned 90 Forest Cove Drive. I had it in my bedroom at that time.) When I moved to 3 Donegal Bay, I had a television in that armoire and, it was so clean when I closed the doors, you couldn't even tell it was an entertainment unit. 

My fondest memory of the series I watched was a family show called Blue Bloods. When I met a woman who asked me my name, she said, "You're Anglo Saxon. Elfrieda is a very Anglo Saxon name."   

When I lived at this address, with Bruce, I went on a few 'ride- alongs' with Bison Transport. That was in between 'finishing out the basement' renovation... I've kept all my receipts, of course.

Now, a Bison 'ride- along' was quite official because I had to sign a waiver for injury in case of any mishaps. I felt rather uncomfortable doing that but I really didn't have a choice. I also had to provide a 'next- of- kin' contact. It was a very organized company.

These 'on- the- road' pictures are always blurry.

On one of these 'ride- along' work runs, we went to a meat packing plant. It was located somewhere on the prairies between Winnipeg and Calgary. Now, if you've never been to meat packing plant, I have a mild caution for those sensitive to odours; myself. That is not an easy place to go to.

This place had security, security, security. You never leave the 'truck' other than to hook up. That is a good thing. 

For those of you who just go to a grocery store and buy your beef neatly shrink- wrapped and don't really think about how it got there... I would like to say, for the time I was in the load pick- up... you would be so impressed by the speed with which meat comes from packing plant to grocery store. These time sensitive loads go from hook- up to hook- up with 'driver waiting' efficiency.

One of my tasks, on these 'ride- alongs' was to either get the paperwork from the back of a trailer, or put paperwork into the slot at the back of a trailer. I always made 100% sure that the trailer was at a full stop before I completed that task. 

'Always be thinking' is my motto.

Once back at 3 Donegal Bay... it was rest time. My basement renovation has a most beautiful solid wood door at the bottom of the stairs... it looks quite like a 'library door.' I stained it myself and purchased the new, quite expensive doorknobs for the entire basement renovation. 

This door, the basement bathroom door, I also finished in the same cappuccino- coloured stain. This is also a solid wood door, matching the full- sized door leading into the rec room... as you can see in the background, my painted baseboards that I purchased at Home Depot were waiting for my construction guy to come install them. This door had to be cut down to the size of the door opening because, strange as it is with some houses that get tweaked over the years... each door in this basement was a different size. Basements are like that when working around furnace pipes. The flooring, in the background is vinyl plank... that was expensive! I painted the walls a lovely lilac blue... very soothing.

This is a photo of the front bedroom/ office when I lived at 3 Donegal Bay. I gave that desk away.

It was a talk- legged shiny black Baroque style desk.

                                                              

 This is my gardening with the shed in the background.

These are the large garden boxes that I wasn't able to remove when I was forced to leave this property, quite illegally. 

These were my flowers at the back door... the bricks must still be there, I'm sure.

This is the railing at the front door, my gardening by the shed shining in the sunlight.

In the background, you can still see my smaller garden boxes, one of which I have here, in Dauphin.

I needed a ladder to cut flowers when I lived here. I think it was all the fresh soil we hauled and put into my garden boxes.

Bruce used to call my 'Kitty.'

I bought this nice piece at Ikea when I lived there. I put it together when Bruce was away. I sold it for so much less than I paid for it. I had my wonderful 'sheaf- back chairs' there as well. They are here, obviously, as they 'go where I go.' I purchased those April 1, 1993.

You can't even imagine how many people have sat in my chairs and eaten food I cooked and baked.

This is the back door.

There's me, Elfrieda, at the back of the property with that old Imperial. My Ram truck parked on the right... when I still had it... before the accident.

Memories... keep good ones alive and I am here to make sure people know what I am owed.

 

Better or Worse?

Did it make you better or worse?

The brain and body needs food to operate efficiently and well. 

Quite a number of years ago I wrote a story about my father and how the medical doctors who were in charge of his life had prescribed way too much medication for his body to handle. He is safely in heaven now so this is the time to help others with his life experiences because he no longer can.

I erased ten years of stories because I tried to monetize and I didn't have a way of doing that so I removed my stories because I was a bit tired of 'giving away my work for free.'

I am writing these stories for my sons so they can learn how their ancestor handled his life.

This is what happened to him. 

We were sitting at his kitchen table and conversing in a natural and normal manner. Suddenly, he got up and started tottering towards his rocking chair. He was walking those 15- 20 feet very fast. I thought, why is he walking so fast?

He got to his chair and reached his hand out for the armrest and his head seemed to become a hundred pounds and aimed straight for the floor and the resounding thud, that his head made on the floor joists, through the rather cheap carpeting and underlay, was astounding.

I got up and raced over and he was already trying to get himself into his rocking chair.

"What happened?" I asked.

My Dad responded, "I got very dizzy." 

"Well, what kind of medication are you on?" I asked.

He laid his head back against his rocker and said, rather blankly, "I'm not in charge anymore."

Now, the only people who were in his house were us daughters and I thought... woah, that means we have to be.

So, the good part of this terrible experience was that his doctor 'cleaned the slate' of his medications and took a much closer look at dosages and things did get straightened out.

So, before you think that taking medication because some doctor prescribes it is a 'sure thing,' remember, you and I are in charge of our own lives and every day- to- day occurrence within our lives. We have to make sure we can explain how we are feeling and if any medication is making something better or worse. If you ever have some free time, look over the many pages of information for any one medication (it really doesn't even matter which medication you research) and you will find as many detractors as you will find possibilities of it having a good effect.

For instance, let's say a medication says it can help you with clear thinking. (I have a sister-in-law that says she has brain fog until noon on any given day.) I imagine she might want to try taking that unless her brain fog doesn't bother her. Maybe that is how her brain functions, slow and fuzzy. Who are we to say?

So, let's say you and I have very clear thinking, crystal clear... and some strange person suggests you take a redundant medication for a condition you and I don't even have... don't take it... why would you try to fix something that isn't broken?

My warning to you is... in this day of pharmaceutical push...

don't be pushed in the wrong direction. 

Why do we need brain energy?

 I have just finished reading a book that is full of important information about my brain and your brain.

I was actually asked to read this book and, although the person who asked me hasn't yet paid me for my research... I am very willing to accept money for relaying information... as research is such a great love of mine.

I will write on this topic a few times, likely.

It may surprise you to know, or not, if you know me very well... that I won't relay information, from anyone, if I think it is nonsense.

Now, let's simplify the world of mental illness and brain energy... because, the brain is the beautiful computer we all have been given to inform every decision, every action, every thought leading to an action, every command that makes your day easier. 

Example- Let's say your brain says... Write a book.

So, a normal process in writing a book is like this...

Q. What should I write about?

A. They say write about, what you know about.

Then you have to organize what you are writing. I had two books, on this topic, to choose from and I must say... the book I read is very much my preference over the other. I did not like the jargon or the style of writing of the other book. It might surprise you to realize that every person has a 'preferred' way of learning.

For instance, why do we have so many preachers? Well, we have so many finicky people who won't go to listen to this guy, don't like that gal, don't think she has too much to offer in the way of a graduate studies knowledge- based informative half hour... don't think his accent is conducive to understanding what the heck he is trying to say. He keeps using words that aren't even English... and the list goes on.

Did you know that, in the world of psychiatry, common conditions like dementia, depression, and anxiety are considered mental illness? Before reading this book, I definitely didn't know that.

I thought dementia was forgetfulness... possibly leading to a really big problem if it gets too bad. (I knew a woman who kept leaving the stove element on after she was done cooking and she was still in her 30's when she had this problem.) I thought depression was feeling sad for any number of reasons... job loss, relationship loss, purpose of life loss. I thought anxiety was a feeling of nervousness, not necessarily grounded in reality, but still needful to be addressed if a feeling of peace does not come along to erase these insecure feelings. 

So, guess what... the paragraph, above, my 'laymans' terms is correct. 

When I was raising my children, I believed that good food was the best medicine and guess what! The book I just read would agree that food is absolutely core and central to feeding the brain what it needs to respond properly.

Starvation is very, very dangerous to the whole body shutting down and never working again.

Surgery of the brain... I only know one person, in the family, who had brain surgery and that is a very invasive procedure that is going to take a long time to heal from. The initial healing took about two years during which time her husband kindly covered for all sorts of things that 'she used to  notice' but, during the time of healing, she didn't notice. 

Now, many people might imagine she had mental illness if they hadn't known that she had surgery because the symptoms of recovery were very similar to dementia in the loss of memory. Then there was response time... everything  slows down when the brain needs to heal. Her world changed so dramatically that... if she had not had a supportive family, she would have ended up in a facility where people don't care what happens to you. I know she is grateful to all of us who helped out.

I just now recall a person who was attacked in a another country while on a 'charity trip.' Her head was bashed by sword- wielding marauders... she got luckier than most because the neurosurgeon who treated her happened to attend the church we were going to when this happened. She did heal and then tried to go back to work but I think she was required to retire earlier than she'd planned because a brain injury brought on by violent attack has a lot of repercussions.

Day to day... what are we all trying to accomplish in living a good life?

Shift- my acronym for this year has been...

S- Safety 

Sh- Safe housing

I- Integrity (I was reading a big section in a different book, yesterday evening, on integrity.)

F- Food

T- Transportation

The biggest roadblock you are going to find, in handling life issues, are people who either have no experience to offer a helping hand... refuse to give, either financially, physically or emotionally... or refuse to recognize their own weaknesses and then mercifully reach out to kindly help another, remembering that they were helped... 

So, if you don't hear from your children... this is likely not good. They probably aren't surrounded by the the best people... be aware of changes in behaviour... those are huge clues that something may be amiss. Always contact to see if they are alright or needing your help.

How many years?

 Wow! I have been without any money for four long years in this place called Dauphin.

I have had to support myself with the tiny little inheritance that my folks left me.

I will show you, here, some of the work I have done at 225, 5th Avenue.

The picture, above, is what the floor looked like under the ink and  dirt stained indoor/ outdoor carpeting that was full of dog pee... in the bedroom I was supposed to sleep in. The glue all over the 1/8 inch thick hardwood was terrible to get off. 

The photo, of the bedroom we sleep in, now, same bedroom, is a picture after I painted/ stained all the surfaces you can see here... baseboards, casings, walls, ceiling, floors... I did all this while he was at work, getting paid... and, I was not getting paid. 

Shouldn't I get paid?

The first two years, here, Warren seemed 'in control' of himself but, since October of 2024, he has been showing a violent tendency toward 'possible dementia.' 

This photo was taken before he became surly, argumentative, and possibly forgetful to the point of 'dementia?'

He forgets things. He has taken to calling me names. He is not this happy man anymore and I am very worried.

This is the gazebo that we built, together... Warren and Elfrieda. He actually didn't know anything about building or construction but I just started the deck and he happily followed. 

    Now, before I agreed to build this project I asked him, "Are you committed to this project?" 

    He laughed. 

    I said, "Really, are you committed to this project? I know people who 'buck out' on me in the middle of something and I am not sure about your ability to stick to something or complete something or if you even have the character of 'stick- to- it- ive- ness." 

    He looked a bit confused and responded with, "I'll stick to the project until it's completed."

So, I started by digging the first hole for the foundation and then the second and third and fourth. In between buying materials at McMunn's, I would just work at it.

    This little building took six months to complete but only Elfrieda and Warren did the work. I, Elfrieda, had already brought two 'barn door ironmongery' packages from Home Depot with me... when I moved here, so the doors we built are hung from my iron... almost $600. 00 just for those two packages. It was a very costly project. 

     So, here's a photo of the deck, 2x8's for the floor, very solid. The dark brown parts is a 'kit' that we purchased to get a framework for people who don't quite have the time or skill to build everything from scratch. My tea room table, pictured on the front of my novel, is on the deck being used for my painting table and, as you can see, I had already stained the finger- jointed doors that we turned into very sturdy doors for my barn door ironmongery. This is a photo of the project only about halfway to being finished.

These are fences I purchased... the one on the left I brought here... the 'church window' metal garden trellises I purchased in this town... I bought five of them. Two of them are attached to the either side of the sliding doors of my gazebo.

I still have four of these chairs, which I brought here... I purchased these so long ago but I still have the receipt from Eaton's... who keeps things this long? Elfrieda.

Here's a good picture of the sliding doors... we built those awnings... all four of them. I hauled the Barkman patio stones in my truck, before it was crashed. The wood- look Barkman stones is what I picked... I bought all they had at Co-op building supply and McMunn's.

    So, I am quite worn out with all the work I have done at 225 5th Avenue... Whew! 

 

Culture

 ... and Christianity? 

When I think about the ways people try to bring Christianity into culture, I often think that I would probably lay the foundation from which to lead, teach, explain, example, for sure, before I would talk too much about culture.

The way I was raised, was quite different from some other families that I grew up with. My Dad had his own way of thinking and implementing a lifestyle, which some might call our culture, into the day to day living of the family. 

We were encouraged to 'get a job,' earn some money, start saving for our lives once we moved out of the family home.

We all followed this dictum and, before we moved out of the safety of the nest, we all followed the rules.

So, let's talk about only one thing today that differentiated our family from another family we knew. 

Paychecks.

There was a strange and, we haven't quite figured out if it was a 'cultish' thing or a 'communist' thing or a 'wow, are you confused thing...,' but there was one very dictatorial, and I would have said, almost evil man, who took, forcefully, his childrens' paychecks. Woah, we could not understand this insanity.

So, when we found a 'job' or 'work that paid,' we got the family living rules and we either followed the rules, argued with my dad about them until we thought his rules had some sanity and equity in them... example... "How can you possibly imagine that I am going to pay you as much as someone who earns twice as much?" 

Dad, of course, being a man of reason, was always willing to listen to the 'what's fair' debate that I would have with him.

So, if ever you run into strange men and women, of a very odd culture who, somehow, believe they have the right to steal a relatively large portion of what actually belongs to another family member... I would bring up the topic of 'human rights' and how a culture that respects each other is likely to have a much more peaceable existence than one that is founded upon warring principles that create animosity and a fight for survival. 

If people knew what was going on, in certain families or companies, (almost unthinkable in Canada, a civilized country), thinking, intelligent people would never support such a diametrically opposed 'culture' of 'theft- based' unjust gain... even if someone is doing this in a family... because this behaviour is only a forcible insanity that will bring about violence and clashes of familial feuding or, company feuding.

When I raised my children, I never took their paychecks. I would have thought that to be 'criminal.' 

So, if you want to be a reasonable, respected, and legacy based 

family, organization, company, 

culture, 

do unto others as you would like them to do unto you. This tends to get the most peaceable results.

 

Waiting for something good

 So, I haven't, yet, seen any money or anything good for so many years... I am getting very worried.

I am looking forward to seeing my sons and my grandchildren.