Quite possibly the worst approaching winter storm we've had so far is going to hit with a fury and wouldn't you know it; when I got up this morning to pile in some more logs, the danged thing fell apart. And, since I'm waiting for the stove to cool off so it's possible to take a better look, see if I can fix it, thought I'd take the time and write a few words - I see I haven't written a blog for awhile now. Although the sun is shining, it's -20 outside and as I wait for the stove to cool, I can already feel the cold seeping through the cracks - like a good shot of hemlock - I can already feel my feet and legs getting cold.
I've been home alone now for about a week and still have over a week to go before Sarah returns from Lethbridge, Alta. She's visiting her mom and dad and there's a good possibility that it will be the last time she will see her dad alive again - yup - he's basically on death's doorstep, ready to say his last sayonara, adios, adieu before that old scythe-wielder knocks on his door for the last time. The way he is, at the moment, feels pretty close to home (no pun intended) because he's only a couple of years older than me. Can you believe I'm only one year older than Sarah's mom? Yeah, I'm a cradle-robber, at least that's what I've been told but hey, Sarah's pushing almost 50 - long way from the cradle aint it? But getting back to dying, doesn't matter who they are or what their age is, death always puts us in touch with our own mortality. Like it or not, we're all gamblers in life's big crap game; especially when death roll the dice pretty close to home base; we thank our stars that we're still looking down at the flowers than up at the ones placed on top of our casket. Dang, since I haven't exactly lived my life in a shy manner, to tell the truth, I guess I never really expected to grow old; to live this long. But geesh, here I am; a wrinkled up old geesher that even a gallon of black hair dye and a hot iron couldn't make me younger again. Oh yeah, all that fake stuff can probably make me look younger but hell, my old rundown body would still say otherwise; aches and pains, stiff joints and out of breath on a short downhill walk, like it or not, still tells the truth about my age - lookin' young doesn't make me young.
There are some folks who don't like computers and everything they entail but to me, rather than just being a social media, where every 2 minutes I post what I'm doing with a "selfie" photo, as if people actually give a shit about me that much, I find it is quite a good learning tool - lot of good information out there. However, that being said, the internet is still a good way of locating someone; a good friend of mine that I'd lost touch with when we moved to NB just sent an email to my art website - a very pleasant surprise. Although he's 20 years younger, it was good to hear from him since the ruts that his motorcycle has traveled and encountered are much the same as mine. Yeah, the wide and straight easy-going roads have never been for us or if they were, we just din't drive them very often; there's a lot more excitement leaning into a hard curve at a high speed, the foot peg scraping along the pavement creating a shower of sparks. But don't get me wrong, it's still great to be alive even if I'm old and somewhat crotchety and revvin' up the rocking chair doesn't make it go any faster and I sure don't lean into it either or I'd find myself trying to pick myself up off the floor if I was still able to. Yeah, fast bikes, fast women, cold beers, a roll of the dice, a turn of the card, I wouldn't say doesn't interest me, it's just that I'm unable to play that game anymore - let's say I've just outgrown it - the good young days of summer have gone forever. Oops, almost forgot, I may be old but I aint half dead yet - still got me a good woman and it's time for a cold beer but not before I hopefully put the old wood stove back together - cheers, eh!
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