Blogs are good places to be annoying
Still riding the excitement of planning my future. I think this winter will be harder just from the contrast with this high. I mean, it can't be sustained, it's unnatural!
But I think Dan's on board with Vancouver living more or less. We took a Google Earth tour last night and I told him my memories of the city. I do love that city and promised to return one day when I left in 1990. I'd only been 8 months and it was clear that city would chew me up. I was just too young, too disabled, (didn't know about autism yet but it knew me) and too poor.
Well Dan's in love. He's noticed the skiing and hadn't realized he could ski most of the summer too. Yep. Summer in the valley, skiing in whistler! I think he misses skiing. He says he could definitely keep busy working there. I said we could definitely not afford a house even as clean and decent as this old shack in this relatively quiet (they don't fight out front every night) bad neighborhood. We'd be in a cockroach motel with drive-by outside in a big city with what our debt, house, and earning power could buy. It's why I left. Saskatoon is one of the kindest cities in which to be poor. Well, poor white with manners, anyway. Indians should move out, it's mean to them. Not sure where they get a fair shake, really, but in time we should get it fixed. We're working on it.
That's another thing on the coast, they actually let white folks fraternize and even attend ceremonies like sweat lodges! I got so much from those sweats that even now it still blesses me! I learned so much more about them from it too. It was probably the primary reason the sea called me to her back then, and she wants me back now. I knew she'd call me back after I lost my athame in the surf that day and I never could make another one, because mine was being held in trust. I could make knives, but my athame is forever in the arms of the sea and I know it.
But so much here has to literally die to set me free and it's too dark and too awful to chase. Old Sarah who's never lived anywhere else, those sweet rabbits who found their heaven here, the quarantine finches who carry that red-eye disease, and that cantankerous old parrot captive. He could potentially be rehomed but homes for old rabbits who expect free range and secure garden access are too rare. I'm not cold enough to put them down for my own agenda either. I have to uphold my promises to these non-human earthlings and maintain their home for them. I enslaved them, I hold them captive and disable their natural abilities and so to me falls the responsibility.
the evil part of me keeps mentally plugging the chimney then going out for a late night on the town with Timmy safe in the car with us. Oh dear no, I could never heal from that.
Well so anyway, I guess I should verify house prices out there. Maybe we could rent something that would let us jump to Vancouver for a year on land with some of the pets able to come along.
Just please, I want off the grid. No more shuffling money around for other people so they'll provide me with trinkets and amusements. If I lived on a boat on the coast, the ocean would provide plenty of entertainment. Wildlife, city life, town life, travel, meditating to the sound of surf, knitting while the rain beats on the deck above, or making a new set of jewellery on the printer because I sold what I wore yesterday :-)
Yes, this blog is just the place to do this obsessing. If I hit Dan with it full on, or any person obliged to stand and take it, I'd piss them off! Dan would just get contrary and refuse to consider the idea any further, as would I if the tables were turned.
As it is, I think he's "on board" so to speak, although it might take some more doing to get the "live on a boat" part. Heck, if there's an option to rent a house in the city it would at least allow us to launch sooner and take more time finding the right boat and learning where the best place to locate it might be found. Moorages around the city aren't going to be cheap or common. You can't just tie up where you like either. Good moorage spots are generally claimed and owned and you must have permission. I was pleased to see a public day-dock in the harbour near downtown, and Dan was tickled with the floating gas station therein. Perhaps our answer will lie in 2 boats, one that's his mobile tool garage, with a motor, and one that's our sail boat for travelling. He still needs to get his tools to the location for the work. I wonder, is there enough work right at the shore to keep him going? Could he lay flooring in ocean front houses and boats, right from a boat?
So I also told him I may start yard saling next summer. I could set up a couple of tables in the smart car shelter, open the gates to the street, and handily run a monthly yard sale. Start with my tchotchkes and "art", fancy clothes and jewellery, and work my way into the gadgets and gizmos till we're pared down to the essentials. The extra cash will certainly help against the debt acquired buying the crap!
Dan kept saying he noticed that a lot of older people "have to" pare down their stuff and downsize. I corrected him with "no, they choose to." The reasons you have for having stuff change. Suddenly it seems more bother to dust it and caretake for it than it's worth.
I had my fun with those furbies but I play with a new toy only a few times, worse than a kid, before I'm done with it. I don't want to sell my furbies yet but they'll go, oh yes. First, though, the pointless antiques I hoped would increase in value for this time in my life.
I would venture to say that of my non-tool items, the decor, 85% was bought on spec, hoping they'd have enough value when I was this old to be investments. So what's the value of a ratty old box brownie? Well not much, and I'm not doing the ebay because it's too much packing and shipping, so even less. There's a gold standard at yard sales, it's worth half the store value. That's whether you're talking antique or walmart special. Sure it's a collectible but if it's at the yard sale, I can take it straight to the collectors and double my money or it's too expensive. Want more for it? Take it to them yourself! Yard sales are lazy. Stick up a sign, post an ad, sit on your tush at home collecting money.
I think I'll spend the winter putting price stickers on my stuff. That'll mark what's going for sale and what's not as well make it easy to load the table when I do the sales. What do I need with a damn poffertjes pan? A windup tin duck on a bicycle? A clunky brass vase? I mean, who needs a set of six pink tea lights or a floor standing 5 head candelabra? it won't fit in the boat and I never use it, it'll go.
Yeah, that'll keep the blues at bay, doing inventory and making lists and prices. In fact, I should do a digital inventory too. Photo, price, object name. I wonder if I can make myself do that much work? hee hee, it'll save me a ton later if I can. Then when I've sold off the shelves full of crap, I can start packaging the deeper buried crap for later sales and use the new space to sort. After the decor there's clothing, jewellery, and old shop junk/tools/hardware. There are dishes I won't keep and gadgets I'll let go of nearer to the end. Eventually we'll be sitting in a nice zen house with just the stuff we use and able to move at least, if not move out. The choosing must be done in winter, though, when you need your stuff to keep busy.
Tom's coming by today to harvest a few cherry tomatoes and get high and visit. I'm looking forward to it. Mostly because of my selfish need to blather on about Vancouver and he's not going to like hearing about it. I mean, he's low on friends out here and one is talking about going away forever. I wish I could suggest he move too, but he hasn't the courage for such things nor the income for security in a city like that. Always go to the small cities if you're poor. People are gentler, crooks simpler, and rents more reasonable. Just don't expect to be embraced by people if you're the abusive type.
I'm kind of counting on that effect in the boater society. I saw it as a kid, and when I've visited docks. They're very open and welcoming without being too trusting or naive, and it's a practical kind of socialism that knows it'll get paid in kind because everyone relies on it. Urban life and it's barbarian edges really can take the humanity off a person. I mean, it's necessary to get a hard edge. You'll get mugged, mooched to death, and cheated without it. I'd like to remove the armour.
yeah, so I hope I've gotten enough of it out of me for today to control myself when Tom comes over.
I will probably even make another entry today, because anyone reading can just skim along. In person, not only is there no >> button, but the voice you're listening to can get a bit shrill as it gets excited! Autistics have trouble containing their passions and it's overwhelming to the uninitiated.
But I think Dan's on board with Vancouver living more or less. We took a Google Earth tour last night and I told him my memories of the city. I do love that city and promised to return one day when I left in 1990. I'd only been 8 months and it was clear that city would chew me up. I was just too young, too disabled, (didn't know about autism yet but it knew me) and too poor.
Well Dan's in love. He's noticed the skiing and hadn't realized he could ski most of the summer too. Yep. Summer in the valley, skiing in whistler! I think he misses skiing. He says he could definitely keep busy working there. I said we could definitely not afford a house even as clean and decent as this old shack in this relatively quiet (they don't fight out front every night) bad neighborhood. We'd be in a cockroach motel with drive-by outside in a big city with what our debt, house, and earning power could buy. It's why I left. Saskatoon is one of the kindest cities in which to be poor. Well, poor white with manners, anyway. Indians should move out, it's mean to them. Not sure where they get a fair shake, really, but in time we should get it fixed. We're working on it.
That's another thing on the coast, they actually let white folks fraternize and even attend ceremonies like sweat lodges! I got so much from those sweats that even now it still blesses me! I learned so much more about them from it too. It was probably the primary reason the sea called me to her back then, and she wants me back now. I knew she'd call me back after I lost my athame in the surf that day and I never could make another one, because mine was being held in trust. I could make knives, but my athame is forever in the arms of the sea and I know it.
But so much here has to literally die to set me free and it's too dark and too awful to chase. Old Sarah who's never lived anywhere else, those sweet rabbits who found their heaven here, the quarantine finches who carry that red-eye disease, and that cantankerous old parrot captive. He could potentially be rehomed but homes for old rabbits who expect free range and secure garden access are too rare. I'm not cold enough to put them down for my own agenda either. I have to uphold my promises to these non-human earthlings and maintain their home for them. I enslaved them, I hold them captive and disable their natural abilities and so to me falls the responsibility.
the evil part of me keeps mentally plugging the chimney then going out for a late night on the town with Timmy safe in the car with us. Oh dear no, I could never heal from that.
Well so anyway, I guess I should verify house prices out there. Maybe we could rent something that would let us jump to Vancouver for a year on land with some of the pets able to come along.
Just please, I want off the grid. No more shuffling money around for other people so they'll provide me with trinkets and amusements. If I lived on a boat on the coast, the ocean would provide plenty of entertainment. Wildlife, city life, town life, travel, meditating to the sound of surf, knitting while the rain beats on the deck above, or making a new set of jewellery on the printer because I sold what I wore yesterday :-)
Yes, this blog is just the place to do this obsessing. If I hit Dan with it full on, or any person obliged to stand and take it, I'd piss them off! Dan would just get contrary and refuse to consider the idea any further, as would I if the tables were turned.
As it is, I think he's "on board" so to speak, although it might take some more doing to get the "live on a boat" part. Heck, if there's an option to rent a house in the city it would at least allow us to launch sooner and take more time finding the right boat and learning where the best place to locate it might be found. Moorages around the city aren't going to be cheap or common. You can't just tie up where you like either. Good moorage spots are generally claimed and owned and you must have permission. I was pleased to see a public day-dock in the harbour near downtown, and Dan was tickled with the floating gas station therein. Perhaps our answer will lie in 2 boats, one that's his mobile tool garage, with a motor, and one that's our sail boat for travelling. He still needs to get his tools to the location for the work. I wonder, is there enough work right at the shore to keep him going? Could he lay flooring in ocean front houses and boats, right from a boat?
So I also told him I may start yard saling next summer. I could set up a couple of tables in the smart car shelter, open the gates to the street, and handily run a monthly yard sale. Start with my tchotchkes and "art", fancy clothes and jewellery, and work my way into the gadgets and gizmos till we're pared down to the essentials. The extra cash will certainly help against the debt acquired buying the crap!
Dan kept saying he noticed that a lot of older people "have to" pare down their stuff and downsize. I corrected him with "no, they choose to." The reasons you have for having stuff change. Suddenly it seems more bother to dust it and caretake for it than it's worth.
I had my fun with those furbies but I play with a new toy only a few times, worse than a kid, before I'm done with it. I don't want to sell my furbies yet but they'll go, oh yes. First, though, the pointless antiques I hoped would increase in value for this time in my life.
I would venture to say that of my non-tool items, the decor, 85% was bought on spec, hoping they'd have enough value when I was this old to be investments. So what's the value of a ratty old box brownie? Well not much, and I'm not doing the ebay because it's too much packing and shipping, so even less. There's a gold standard at yard sales, it's worth half the store value. That's whether you're talking antique or walmart special. Sure it's a collectible but if it's at the yard sale, I can take it straight to the collectors and double my money or it's too expensive. Want more for it? Take it to them yourself! Yard sales are lazy. Stick up a sign, post an ad, sit on your tush at home collecting money.
I think I'll spend the winter putting price stickers on my stuff. That'll mark what's going for sale and what's not as well make it easy to load the table when I do the sales. What do I need with a damn poffertjes pan? A windup tin duck on a bicycle? A clunky brass vase? I mean, who needs a set of six pink tea lights or a floor standing 5 head candelabra? it won't fit in the boat and I never use it, it'll go.
Yeah, that'll keep the blues at bay, doing inventory and making lists and prices. In fact, I should do a digital inventory too. Photo, price, object name. I wonder if I can make myself do that much work? hee hee, it'll save me a ton later if I can. Then when I've sold off the shelves full of crap, I can start packaging the deeper buried crap for later sales and use the new space to sort. After the decor there's clothing, jewellery, and old shop junk/tools/hardware. There are dishes I won't keep and gadgets I'll let go of nearer to the end. Eventually we'll be sitting in a nice zen house with just the stuff we use and able to move at least, if not move out. The choosing must be done in winter, though, when you need your stuff to keep busy.
Tom's coming by today to harvest a few cherry tomatoes and get high and visit. I'm looking forward to it. Mostly because of my selfish need to blather on about Vancouver and he's not going to like hearing about it. I mean, he's low on friends out here and one is talking about going away forever. I wish I could suggest he move too, but he hasn't the courage for such things nor the income for security in a city like that. Always go to the small cities if you're poor. People are gentler, crooks simpler, and rents more reasonable. Just don't expect to be embraced by people if you're the abusive type.
I'm kind of counting on that effect in the boater society. I saw it as a kid, and when I've visited docks. They're very open and welcoming without being too trusting or naive, and it's a practical kind of socialism that knows it'll get paid in kind because everyone relies on it. Urban life and it's barbarian edges really can take the humanity off a person. I mean, it's necessary to get a hard edge. You'll get mugged, mooched to death, and cheated without it. I'd like to remove the armour.
yeah, so I hope I've gotten enough of it out of me for today to control myself when Tom comes over.
I will probably even make another entry today, because anyone reading can just skim along. In person, not only is there no >> button, but the voice you're listening to can get a bit shrill as it gets excited! Autistics have trouble containing their passions and it's overwhelming to the uninitiated.