My new book “Midlife Solo” is now available.

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No Caribana here

It’s the Sunday of a long weekend: holiday tomorrow. Thus, silence. For once, no renovating, no hammering or machines, just birds and wind in the trees. On the other side of town, it’s Caribana, very noisy in Parkdale for my kids, for Anna, who loves the event and parties, and for Sam, who like his mother craves quiet. This morning I danced with Nicky and friends, our birthday dance since she and I share August 1; she played the Beatles’ fabulous Birthday song for us. Janet who’s staying here sat eating blueberries on the deck before heading off to her last day in TO. Tiggy sleeps in the sun nearby, as always.

Nothing planned. A long list of things-to-do, but nothing planned. A walk? Cooking with Eleanor at 3? Getting something done? Maybe. Maybe not. Silence.

Was part of an email exchange today between Chris and Juliet, whose blogs I follow and who’ve become friends with each other through their blogs. Both despair of humankind and have retreated, Chris to Gabriola Island, and Juliet, soon, from Paris to a small town in Spain. “We are the worst thing to happen to the planet,” says Chris. I understand his despair and disgust, when you look at what is happening to our world right now – Trump, the rise of fascism, viruses, refugees, burning, droughts, flooding, so much more. Horrifying. Terrifying.

But on this stunning day, I cannot give up on us. There’s the cardinal singing, such a powerful song. Bees nuzzling the rose of Sharon. Imagine, we share the planet with the miracle of flowers, bees, birds. Music, art, theatre, dance, literature. Literature! Writers! Scientists! I can’t give up, there’s so much that is marvellous, magnificent, about us, with all our hideous flaws.

Plus I have grandchildren.

So in the silence, I will tend my tiny patch of earth, try to be kind and help, try not to do harm. Is it enough? No, but for now, it’s what I’ve got.

On Friday, I had a bone density scan at Women’s College Hospital, a twelve minute bike ride from home, in and out in fifteen minutes, a lovely chat with Jenny the technician. I have lost an inch and two kilos since I was there two years ago — pandemic weight lost. But it’s a shock to be 5’7 3/4 instead of 5’8 3/4. My six foot tall mother was about five seven when she died. We shrink, but hopefully in body only.

And then I went to Toronto Lynn’s for a swim in her sublime pool, like a forest glade, and for dinner. I asked her to take a photo of me in my new bathing suit, and bravely I’m going to post it. Because 73. Because the best suit ever. Absolutely no waist, but could be worse.

 

What I’m thankful for this morning. Plus silence.

On the other hand, someone posted this on FB. I sent it to Abigail Thomas, who has recently tattooed FTS on her arm, for “Fuck this shit.” She wrote back, Exactly!

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2 Responses to “No Caribana here”

  1. theresa says:

    Yes to bathing suit (you look wonderful!) and yes to This too shall pass. (In my experience, it doesn’t. It shape-shifts.) My late father had a saying, used frequently, that has become a daily thing for me: One goddamned thing after another. It’s always true. And wow, that’s a beautiful pool…

  2. Beth Kaplan says:

    Wayson always said, no matter what’s happening, good or bad, look behind you, because it’s going to change. Speaking of good sayings, my mother-in-law used to say, Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, no matter how wrong they may be. I loved that. Yes, it’s an amazing garden and pool in the heart of the metropolis. My friend is an expert gardener and much else.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

Some Blogs I Follow

Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.

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