It is a second cup of tea kind of day, or coffee, or whatever libation gets you through. Rumi is slumped at the foot of the couch in a blissful, smelly heap that only a dog can pull off with any semblance of cuteness. We are on Day 1 of the forecasted 50 mm of rain over the next week. Gray skies as accompaniment. If Dave quips “April showers bring May flowers” one more time, I will hit him.

It is project time at the cabin now that the snow is mercifully gone. The next step involves a little bump-out that will contain a hot water tank, stackable laundry, and shower stall. Angelo, who raised the cabin during the pandemic lockdown, has agreed to take on this project.

Angelo has neither email nor texting capabilities. He is purely a “I answer the phone when I answer the phone” kind of guy. What he lacks in tech abilities he makes up for in craftsmanship and integrity. We are fortunate he is working on the property again.

We have learned that at the end of each project, Angelo treats himself, and his rescue dogs that accompany him, to a big slab of steak cooked over the firepit. Last time, he forgot his beloved grilling rack and had to make a special trip back to the cabin to retrieve it.

Our project at home is to replace the shed that should have been knocked down 25 years ago. Paint and rust are holding it together. Each year we find cozy nests in every nook and cranny and impressive pinecone caches. We no longer remove these items. What is the point? The shed belongs to the critters, and has for a long time. I admire their eternal prepper spirit and the fact they can survive on pinecones for months, but not enough to continue subjecting our neighbors to the homage to vermin facing their patio.

The Gift of Restlessness

I recently heard an interview on CBC’s Tapestry with author Casey Tygrett. The content and Mary Hynes’ soothing voice make this an appropriate rainy day listen.

I appreciated many points, like the role ‘irritation’ plays in our lives, and how restlessness is a most uncomfortable gift. But the end of the interview is what really caught my attention: Belonging vs belonging (upper case being reserved for how we Belong only to ourselves, and lowercase for everything else in our lives). It brought to mind my decision to leave education 4 years earlier to salvage what was left of my physical and mental health. In the thick of it, I was a slave to my career. I lost myself and suffered the consequences. Leaving was the only way for me to see clearly.

In a plot twist I never predicted, I have returned to this same profession albeit part-time, sans security/benefits/sick leave/pension. Now, I simply belong. My job serves an important purpose in my life but is no longer who I am. What freedom that lowercase b affords, permission to not lose oneself within a role or title.

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery
none but ourselves can free our minds.

Bob marley, REdemption song

It’s a day to write and reflect, and belt out select William Prince and Tom Wilson tunes. A new favorite is Run Away to Mars by Ottawa’s own TALK. Rumi is done with all of this and now sits at the gate, hoping to catch a glimpse or whiff of his #1 girlfriend Bea Arthur.

May this rainy day bring you Belonging in the truest sense.