ROBBLOG #831- Sloppy Easter

I must be getting lazy these days.

I means besides waiting around to die from the "Toyota Corolla" virus what else is there to do?
Not much.
It does give one the opportunity to pause and reflect.
So, I did that.
I was thinking about all those Men and Women who died in WWI.
Where was this "God" in Heaven.

WWII comes along and millions of men and women are killed while in service to their country.
Gays (who were made to wear a pink star), Lesbians too, the disabled and millions of Jews were incarcerated and gassed in camps in Germany and Poland.
Where was this "God in Heaven".
Don't tell me "he" has a plan because if "he or she" did he or she would be real and not an imaginary figure.

Let's not forget The Spanish Flu and any number of other sicknesses that happened around the world.Then this current pandemic.
Where was, where is this "God" in Heaven.

Again, some say it's a plan- his plan, he's waiting. Why that Orthdox Jew in Israel who is head of  the"health" department is waiting. He blames this Pandemic of covid-19 on the Gays. He says it's God's way of making human's pay for the curse of being Gay or Lesbian or Trans or, or, or....
Don't even get him started on Gay Weddings.
He is waiting for the Messiah to come. And soon.

Now, we've proclaimed the Easter Bunny to be an essential service. My Goodness, the Christians must be pissed that the "Bunny" gets a mention- an exclution and NOT The Christ.
Jesus!!
What a world eh?

Anyhoo, I have a little verse or two to repeat here. It's from my "Book of Stories" called-
The Gospel of Rob.
Okay. I just made that up...
Flip to Chapter 3, Verses 1 through 56.
Then, read at your leisure...

Happy Easter Everyone... and I mean that in the secular, non-religious way.

You know, Easter Bunnies, Easter Eggs, Colourful Easter Baskets. The way Easter was meant to be.

Maybe you buy a new shirt.

A new pair of pants.

A chic little, black, cocktail dress and a huge hat festooned with ribbons and pearls which you proudly wear while strolling down the avenue arm-in-arm with Fred Astaire.

Peeping, yellow Chicks and chocolate and sunny, spring days and chocolate.

Then, there's the other less popular Easter Story that scares small children and adults half to death for the rest of their lives- when they buy into it.

That other less happy-go-lucky yarn concerns a youngish Jewish man who lives with 12 other men and a Hag called Mary. They skip around the Judean countryside in little more than rough, cottony shift dresses- cinched at the waste with rope, all the while charming all the little old ladies and men by turning water into wine.

THE best party trick of all!

The story turns into a horror show however- like Carrie, with the young Jew nailed up to a tree of sorts by bad men who speak Latin but have indoor plumbing and slaves to cater to their every whim.

A gruesome death follows for the handsome- unmarried Jew. His parents- by the way, are sick about the fact their son is in his early thirties and not married. Even Aunt Sophie asks him every Christmas and Easter- "So, Jesus Christ do you have a girlfriend already?"

Back to the story...

A couple of days pass. The body rots and smells something terrific inside a tomb yet- miraculously, the stone covering the entrance rolls away and the young Jew rises up. He steps outside the tomb into the brilliant morning sunshine, sees his shadow and waits a few more weeks for Judean Spring to come.

Pass the chocolate Easter Eggs please.

ROBBLOG #830- F, M & F

And now a tale of Bunnies and Easter first published almost 10 years ago...

Flopsy, Mopsy…and Florence were three of the cutest little bunnies you would ever want to lay your eyes upon.

They were so glad it was finally spring!

The days were warm.

They loved to tumble and nibble on the fresh, green grass that covered the big field next to their log home like a fluffy comforter on a big, brass bed.

The grass tasted oh so sweet.

However, the greens in Mr. Alabaster’s garden were even sweeter- especially in the spring, just as the first few sprouts of lettuce popped out of the warm earth on a warm sunny day.

The bunnies weren’t thinking about Mr. Alabaster’s garden at this particular moment. Flopsy was sitting next to a big, gray boulder grooming her white fur. Mopsy and Florence meanwhile amused themselves trying to do headstands in the tall grass. They tried and tried but fell over with every attempt giggling and snickering louder each time. Their bunny laughter is contagious. A few chicadees in a tree near the boulder chirped merrily too at the funny goings-on below.

“Come on you two”- cried Flopsy. She had finished her grooming. “Let’s run all the way down to the old cedar fence!”

“Okay Flopsy. Bet I can beat you!”- Mopsy squealed and she was off like a shot.

“Running. Always running!” Florence stood with her paws on her hips tapping her right paw gently on the green grass. “Really you two!” She was raising her voice now since her brother and sister were half-way across the field.

Flopsy and Mopsy soon reached the cedar fence. Flopsy was just a hare ahead of Mopsy.

They both collapsed in a heap near one of the cedar fence posts.

“Honestly, you two. Get a life. Both of you.” Florence had hopped on down to the fence. She seemed a little upset.

“What’s the prob Flo?” It was Mopsy who dared even ask the question.

Florence had placed a paw on each of her furry hips once again-

“Look, it’s just that there are more interesting things to do you two.”

“Like what?”- asked Flopsy.

“Well…” Florence thought for a moment. “Like thinking about what are we going to do for Easter. We haven’t even looked for a present for Mumsy and Dadsy yet.”

“Awwww. Get ‘em some chocolate eggs. They’ll be happy with that.” It was Mopsy who spoke and suggested the idea.

Flopsy snapped a paw and added- “That’s a good idea and we can place them in a nice basket filled with fresh grass and tie a big pink bow on top and ohhhh…we can tuck a Michael Buble CD in the basket too!”

Florence and Mopsy looked at Flopsy. They stared for a couple of seconds, then looked back at each other again. Their little bunny noses twitching. Finally, they turned back, looking Flopsy right in the eye and speaking in unison said-

“That is so Gay!”

The End

ROBBLOG #829- I Felt I had To Write

I felt I had to write something.

I'm celebrating a milestone of sorts. A milestone that I didn't reach by myself.
You see thirty-five years ago on April 4th 1985, I found myself on a flight to Honolulu.
There's a lot more to the back story but after 35 years, I think I can tell it without all the crap that was happening in my life at the time.

No, suffice to say it was three decades and five years ago that I met The Mister on a flight.
A Wardair flight to Honolulu, Hawaii.
That day, sitting at an exit door in row 9 on the right-hand side of the aircraft, my fate was sealed.
I met my sole mate.
I met the one person that I was destined to spend the rest of my life with- these past 35 years in particular.

Neither of us had any idea at the time that this was going to be a long-term relationship. It seems incredibly hard to believe that it is now thirty-five years later. From a man in his early thirties I now sit at this keyboard as a Senior Citizen.
My husband is also a Senior Citizen- although a few years less senior.
No, I didn't rob the playpen.

Oh. My. Gawd.
How in the fuck did that happen?
Thirty-five years in a snap. I'm clutching my pearls!
Thinking not so much that I got old but that we've held this "love fest" together for all those years.

From that Wardair flight to our first breakfast on Waikiki Beach at the Royal Hawaiian- and not alone I might add, for we were chaperoned.
At least "chaperoned" is what I am going to call it for the purpose of this Blog.

What can I say? 35 years ago on
The Royal Hawaiian Hotel steps. Those impressive legs!

For those straight folks reading today, a Gay couple usually bases the start of the length of a relationship on the first day of their meeting.
For us that's April 4th, 1985.
We did get married- on that same date in 2006, when it became legal for us homosexuals to do what so many other couples have done for centuries.
By the way, the sky didn't fall and it still hasn't.
Society didn't fall apart and if society has a bit, it has noting to do with the Gays and the rest of the LGBTQ2+ folks.

Anyhoo, it took three months to get my ducks in a row and The Mister- who I'll call Tom from hereon in because that's his name, to get used to the idea that he was wasn't going to be living alone for the foreseeable future.
That foreseeable part is still ongoing.
I dissolved my household.
He re-arranged his.

A few years after we began to co-habit, we bought our Mississauga, Ontario house- together. We lived in that new house for five years and then decided to move north to Central Ontario- Orillia to be precise, where we bought an 1882 Victoria Home.
That lasted 25 years.
To finish off this adventure in moving, we turned our lives upside down in 2017 and moved a few thousand miles west to Vancouver Island- the Cowichan Valley- Canada's only Mediterranean climate zone, to be precise.

Here, we have been putting down new roots for the past three years.
Three years come August although our first adventure on this Island to have a look see was three years ago B.C. this past February.
That B.C does not stand for British Columbia but "before corona".

I certainly don't have time to regale you with all we've done these 35 years.
We have travelled to many countries.
We have made tons of friends.
Our parents have passed on- as have some of those friends I referred to in the line above.
We've had a plethora of pets that we miss dearly and will never forget.
Currently we have a mini-schnauzer "Koko" and an orange and white tabby- "Dickens".

At thirty-five years- and I'll speak for Tom here as well, our lives are pretty complete. We usually do what we want to do in regards to travel and buying "things".
I love buying "things" and I love being in Paris and London- not to forget Honolulu where it all began.

In fact, we would be there now, in Honolulu, celebrating this milestone of an anniversary but with this Pandemic around the world we find ourselves grounded and housebound like all Canadians.
We did go for a quick shop today and bought two dozen roses in celebration of our anniverasry that I've artfully arranged in two vases.
So, Happy 35th Anniversary to us!

For this April 4th there's-
No dinner out.
No celebrating with friends.
No Hawaiian breezes.
This year we have none of those things-

BUT,
We still have the love of each other and virus or not, that's enough.

ROBBLOG #828- Home Sweet Home- or not?

Okay. Now hold on! Don't start the rumour mill churning just yet.

Yesterday, The Mister and I went for a drive up island.
We had a purpose in mind.
I was clutching two small sheets of paper on which were written a half dozen addresses.
No, we weren't going visiting in this time of pandemic.

We had a purposeful reason to drive up island and take two sheets of addressed paper with us.
I have been looking at real estate during these "troubled times".
Why?
Well basically, we'd just like to have an ocean view.

When we first moved to the island almost three years ago, many folks asked us if we had an ocean view. No, but I'd excitedly add- "We have a mountain view!"
They didn't seem to care.
Ocean trumps mountain I guess.

Anyhoo, I had written down six addresses of homes currently on the market.
I looked at photos of interiors while online.
I knew what we wanted. These six were passable and in some ways, close to what we had now.
I also looked at front and back yards.We wanted more space between neighbours plus a proper street distance.

We didn't want gravel and stones. Here on the island people who don't want to cut grass or install an underground watering system opt for rocks.
Massive amounts of rock and gravel of varying sizes.
Nothing detracts from the street appeal of a home more than grey stones.
A lawn of green grass- real or artificial, sets off a home's curb appeal. The house looks
better. Friendlier.
I guess that's the Ontarian in me.Think green.
Many British Columbians choose cold, oppressive stone.

So we saw three homes in Chemainus, three in Ladysmith- one was actually Saltair but close enough to Ladysmith.
Prices varied.
Now, back in Ontario if a house and property were not cared for- a dump in other words, the price reflected that fact.
Here on the Island a Bette Davis "dump" can be upwards of 500 to 600 thousand. Sometimes what looks promising in an online photo collage looks dreadful and messy when you pull up streetside.
One feels like marching up to the front door and saying- "Really? I mean really?- $500,000 for this?

We did see a couple of homes that looked promising- one with an ocean and a mountain view where yesterday there was snow on the peaks. Our favourite was truly beautiful.
It sat up high on a rocky outcrop.
Massive ocean views.
Three balconies- lanais, to take in the view.
Double Car garage.
A nice interior with enough bedrooms and baths.
It would be considered the very top end of our budget- if we had one.
The whole neighbourhood was well-cared for. Clean streets with centre boulevards and a couple of minutes drive to shops in Ladysmith.

Driving up island gave us something to think about.

I look back on our very first trip to the Island three years ago and remember not knowing our way around. We perhaps made a hasty choice on a location for our home.
Now, I love the fact we built a custom home with all the features we asked for.
Our gardens have exploded the past almost three years and that is lovely.
Weather in the Cowichan is better than anywhere else in Canada and that's a fact!
We also don't have a lot of breathing space- that's also a fact.
Living near six tribes is also a fact.

I hear you asking- Knowing this area of the Island better now would we have made a different choice?
I think so.
The Ocean View is the best and two of the houses we viewed yesterday ticked that box more than once.

So what now?
I have no fucking idea...

ROBBLOG #827- What would Joan Do?

Show of hands please...

How many readers wanna curl up on the couch and sleep these trying times away?
Uh-Huh.
Thought so...

You know, this Toyota Corolla virus doesn't have to keep us in our homes or stop us from enjoying life.

Here on Vancouver Island the Mister and I are doing our usual walk with Koko- our mini-schnauzer, every day. If we happen upon folks- and we usually do, we step to one side and ensure two metres distance. Many times the approaching walker does the same, so we may wind up with four metres- or more, distance.

On the Island or Islands there are about 47 cases so far. A fairly small number for more than a million residents. I heard this morning that many people are returning from their winter homes to take up residence a month or two early. Of course self-isolation is the order of the day because Island Health resources are stretched. On smaller Islands like Saltspring and Denman there is even less opportunity to have hospital care. So, the Islanders have asked visitors to stay home.
Even on Vancouver Island's West Coast, the communities of Ucluelet and Tofino are asking visitors and surfers alike to stay away.
So they should.

If Joan Crawford starred in The Walking Dead this
would be her taking down a rotten Zombie.

Besides refraining from going out for coffee or fish and chips, our lives are pretty much the same in retirement or self-isolation here in the Cowichan. We go out to shop as necessary and pick up foodstuffs we need- if they are on the shelves. There's still many times when the shelves are empty.
Oh and we wipe or spray our hands once back in our vehicle and still we wash our hands thoroughly as soon as get home.

There are positive things I can do- like writing this Blog or while being self isolated, I've had a a chance to catch up on TV series.

I've re-watched all seasons of "Call the Midwife"- even the new season that just aired in the UK.
The past few days I've done the same with "The Walking Dead".
I had stopped watching so I needed to catch up on season eight and nine and watch the first 10 episodes of the current season ten.

Things are pretty much the same in Zombie Yankeedom.
Killing, maiming, arguing. Loving America- still...

No one seems to get along.
There are hordes of "bad people" who want to control the "good people". That's been the running story line for all of the seasons. Watching on my computer screen I can fast forward through the crap. I would say I watch an episode in ten to fifteen minutes and I hardly miss a beat. Actually, one can watch the last few minutes of an episode and the first few minutes of the following episode and pretty much get the story line.

If only Joan Crawford were here. She'd show those rotting Zombie herds a thing or two.
"Don't F*** with me Fellas!!"- she'd say as she pointed her pistol in their general direction.

There are not that many new scenarios and none that include or allude to Joan Crawford but you have to hand it to the writers who have been churning out seasons like there's no tomorrow- and there isn't much of a tomorrow, in The Walking Dead.

My last blog alluded to the fact that living in Zombiedom is much like living through this virus except we don't go around stabbing "the affected" in the head, slashing them with a shovel or beating them with a baseball bat entwined with barbed wire. No, here in 2020 we simply step aside and wish the "possibly" infected a good day and good health.

Good grief-
Aren't we swell?

ROBBLOG #826- Zombies Are People Too

So howz it goin', eh?

What a strange world we live in with this Toyota Corolla Virus.
I've been calling it that.
Toyota Corolla.
Well, you have to laugh- don't you?

The Mister was telling me the other day that the Spanish Flu killed 50 million folks around the world back in its day. So, looking at stats, we are doing much better. Of course in the time of the Spanish Flu, medically, things were different.
Doctors offices were not as clean.
Hospitals were basic. I am sure stainless steel and IV drips were non-existent.
Our numbers- although skyrocketing in some countries, are certainly better than in that world-wide epidemic remembering that there were no jet airlines moving people around in a few hours from one end of the earth to the other.

If we could just find a pill.
A cure- and fast.
Even in this time of fast, fast, fast, a medication to fight covid-19 is a few months off.
How did this strange virus get a foothold and what will attack us when this virus settles down?
It's certainly an uneven playing field.
We seem to be slow on the uptake.
Slow on keeping the virus in check. Slow to stay home.
Did it really start in that Chinese market where they hung the carcasses of all manner of beasts to feed the millions? I am no scientist or doctor so I don't know how these things get a foothold.

I do know that there are days I wish we were fighting the "Zombie Apocalypse" and not the Toyota Corolla Apocalypse.
You see, with a Zombie, you know where you stand.
They want to eat your brain or flesh.
They want to have a cocktail of your blood- similar to a vampire only a vampire has more class.
Zombies want you dead.
We want to live- like Jane Froman.
That's it.
A Zombie doesn't expect you to self-isolate for weeks on end.

No, if a Zombie were standing there in front of you, you'd know where you stood.
The Zombie is the Walking Dead.
You are the "walking" alive.
So, a quick shot to the head with your Grandad's old hunting rifle.
A snow shovel smashed into its brain.
A neighbour's chain saw- borrowed last fall to trim the oak in your backyard, roaring through its neck severing the head from the rest of the body.
So simple.
Show a Zombie it's demise and poof!
You are done.
Zombie dies- again. Let us not forget that a Zombie has already died once. When you smash its brain with a shiny, new Home Hardware shovel or a rock from your Hydrangea garden, you are really doing it a favour sending it to "The Jesus".

No repercussions.
Neighbours yell across the street-" Hey Buddy, good shot to that Zombie's head!"
You smile in gratitude.

With the dead Zombie lying there on your well-manicured front lawn all you have to do is wait for
Zombie Recycling and your problem is looked after.
Although Zombies are portrayed as terrifying, flesh eating monsters- and they are, at least one knows where one stands.
With this Toyota Corolla pandemic the future is uncertain.
Oh, sure some folks you'd like to bash in the head and bring them to their senses but we are human after all.
Loving beings.
It's just that some humans have the word "asshole" printed in indelible ink across their forehead.
You'd have to get up close with a slice of lemon and wipe it across their brow once or twice to see the letters.

Again, when you see a Zombie stumbling towards you, you know it's a Zombie and you understand what you have to do.
With the Toyota Corolla...well, you get the drill.
All we can do is physically distance ourselves. No shovel required.

I'm sure you all have an out of touch, nicotine-addicted neighbour still inviting boyfriends over- one at a time of course, for a quick snog and an after sex smoke.
Don't you?
No? Really?
Well, aren't you lucky!

Meanwhile, has anyone checked that the dead are staying dead these days?
No?
Hmmmmm.......

ROBBLOG #825- Divisions

Living in a world divided.

We're seeing borders closed. International flights cancelled. Restaurants and bars closed.
Different reactions to covid-19 depending on where you live.

I think even across CANADA there are divisions.
The Federal Government and our Prime Minister saying one thing.
Provincial governments another.
That Ford Fellah another.
Egads!
States of emergency have been declared not only by Provincial Governments like here in BC but also major cities- like Vancouver.

Here on Vancouver Island- in the Cowichan especially, I am not seeing or hearing of mass hysteria of any kind.
Well, there's the Toilet Paper caper but really that seems to be in most places and really WTF?

BC Provincial Health Officer Doctor Bonnie Henry says although there are new cases daily the chance of getting sick in most BC communities is relatively low. I take it that goes for Vancouver Island too. Most people- if infected, get a light does of flu-like symptoms. Many who have died have heart or respiratory symptoms before C-19 took hold.

We're still living normally for the most part.
We shop when we have to.
We've had Chiropractor appointments cancelled.
Some stores have reduced hours yet still be had lunch out yesterday with a friend while we waited for our mini-Schnauzer to be groomed. The restaurant practiced safety. Tables were separated and staff cleaned diligently. Washrooms were spotless as was our table. I held my coffee cup as the server refilled by mug. We didn't hug our friend but elbow kissed. We washed out hands and used wipes. We walked through a neighbourhood enjoying the warm sunshine.
Many people were out walking but we all kept what we considered to be a safe distance.

None of us were sneezing, coughing or showed signs of health distress. We are all of the age that once an "island" winter sets in we wash our hands whenever we're out- including pushing a shopping cart. That part has not changed. Keeping fingers away from eyes and mouths has always been a part of "wintertime" practice during our new life on the island as it was in "Old Home" back in Ontario.

I have noticed a distinct difference when chatting to eastern folks. Maybe a few more hyper-tones in their voices compared to here.
Maybe it's the weather.

We are well into spring with forsythia, cherry blossoms, camelia and more all happily in bloom.
Our skies are brilliant blue with few clouds.
We even had to water our garden the past few days because of lack of rain.
We are out walking or biking as we have been all "winter".
That might be the difference.
We might just be healthier here on the east coast of Vancouver Island.

This Coronavirus is not going away anytime soon- so they tell us.
I can see plot lines from old movies becoming reality when viruses and such erase much of our planet- if earthquakes or the bomb doesn't get us first.
If a virus ten times more contagious that covid-19 hits in the future, then it's time to say "buh-by" like the friendly flight attendant at the door to a returning aircraft.

Maybe on the positive side, Doctors, Scientists and Government leaders- not all, will get a better handle on how to deal with a virus such as this in the future.
Maybe soon it'll be a piece of cake especially if we all stock up on toilet paper well in advance.
TP has no expiry date.

We can only hope things will get better.