Roses and Thorns August 14 - 27: Part Three

Okay, I lied. I didn't end up cleaning much last night after all. I did a little spritzing, but that's about it. Soon after I was done blogging, Jim came home (he was having a beer with his brother next door), and then we got into this Outdoor Life Network show about the cops who work the beat in East Hastings... which I'm sure most of you already know is Canada's poorest postal code.

After my first trek through East Hastings about six or seven years ago, it stuck with me in such a huge way that I use to have reoccurring dreams about that area. I'd always find myself lost in a labyrinth of shifty alleys, eventually trapped at a dead end. Sometimes I would have to hide under soiled mattresses or behind dumpsters, trying to escape the zombie-like junkies, muggers and pimps that were around every corner. I haven't had that dream in almost a year or so now...

On the show, the officer said there are about 4000 - 5000 addicts living in that area! Gawd, I had no idea the number was *that* high! (Honestly, no pun intended...) It was a fascinating watch and yet so very, very sad. I actually recognized one of the homeless people from when we drove through that area last week. She wasn't hard to miss, as she is hunched way forward from the waist, as if her back had been broken and never healed properly. My heart really goes out to these people. What happened in their lives that has lead them to this tragic place? It really seems bleak....

Anyhow... I'm getting way off topic here. Of course now my thorns completely pale in comparison to what these folks struggle through every single day! And my roses blossom so huge.... I really have so much to be grateful for! I think we all do... 

'Kay, getting back to it....

Rose

Holding Jim's hand. Sounds dumb, right? But I feel I need to include it.... 

After finally escaping the house on Friday afternoon, Jim reached for my hand while wandering around Blockbuster, and for some reason I was surprised at how nice it felt. So that's what I said - "Why does it feel so nice to hold your hand?" Jim pointed out that it's probably because we haven't actually held hands in a week! The last time we walked hand-in-hand was when we were trying to find a place to eat in Van the Thursday before. 

I mean, it's not like we haven't had any contact at all in the last week - we hold and hug each other probably a dozen times a day. I don't think we'd survive rewrite hell if we didn't have those 'hold me tight' moments. But walking hand-in-hand is nice. I didn't realize how much I missed it.

Thorn

Friday morning before breakfast, I commented on my mom's FB status. It read "RIP Peter", so I asked, "Peter who?" That's when she called me with some graphic news that sat heavy in my stomach, ruining my appetite. Peter was a 39 year old man who had been murdered in my hometown. Since both my dad and sister had worked at the mall for years n' years, (where Peter also worked) my family knew him much better than I did. I only knew him to see him around. I should also mention that murders just don't happen in Pembroke. It's your stereotypical small town (population 14,000-ish) where nothing like this ever goes down.  

Most folks have immediately jumped to the assumption that he was murdered because he was gay. And while I don't want to draw any uninformed conclusions, well... let's just say I would not be the least bit surprised, especially since the man he was with was also injured in the attack. From my understanding, Peter was a good guy who'd give you the shirt off his back, so I don't see why else he would fall victim to such a brutal crime. Fortunately, the murderer Garry Decker, (who I hear is a military guy from Calgary), has been charged with first degree murder and attempted murder. I hope he rots!

Mom then disclosed some of the info provided in the news, and it completely made me sick. I think in a situation like this, ignorance if definitely bliss. 

So in addition to this thorn, I'd like to say that I'm very disappointed in the local media for revealing such graphic details and witness testimony that would better serve a police report than public consumption. I realize the saying goes, "If it bleeds, it leads" - but seriously, Pembroke reporters! Use some effing discretion! I don't even know the guy and some of the details of what the neighbours heard and saw made my blood run cold. 

That poor soul... Apparently his mother had also passed away only a week before. 

So much suffering in this world... First my blurb about East Hastings and now a murder... Sheesh, my R&T's are pretty dark this week.

Rose

My little balcony garden is really flourishing. It's growing all kinds of cayenne peppers and regular peppers, juicy tomatoes and even my eggplants have started to make an appearance. So exciting! It makes me smile whenever I go out there to water them.

My colourful morning glories are so lovely too! I know some people say they're real pain in the butt, but I think they're too pretty to be pests. I wish I could grow them inside year-round, and have them twist and climb my curtain rods. 

Thorn

I don't think I have any more thorns to report. And even if I do, after the yucky thorns I've already shared, why spend time trying to conjure up more crap that I've already forgotten. 

Oh wait! I got a couple slivers last week from the shed at our community garden. There. Enough with the bad news for this week.

Rose

Hmm.... I have a bunch more lil' rose buds to share, and can't choose. So here's a quick summary of other small blessings from the past two weeks:

- Since there were no rentals available, we had to drive our own car to Vancouver. Silvery (the stupid name we've given our car) survived the trip, and restored our faith in her. Good job, girl!

- I had a nice Corona break with Laura and Michelle the other week. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, as it landed the night between going through our script changes funk and jumping back into intense rewrites.

- I received another letter from Marc Emery and have started doing some online volunteer work and other organizing efforts. 

- When I went back home to Ontario, I finally got my Season 3 of Degrassi Junior High back from a friend who I lent it to in 2007. (Wow... I didn't realize she had it for so long!) So lately whenever we take a break from writing to eat, we've been getting reacquainted with my ol' pals from Degrassi. 

I say "my" pals, because Jim didn't grow up watching the show. He thought it had a shitty production value and bad acting - which it does, but that's part of it's charm! However, now I know that he's just as addicted to it as I am, because he makes me pause it whenever he leaves the room. Ha ha! Of course, he says it's because he doesn't want to miss making fun of anything... but I know that deep down he loves it! ;) 

Degrassi has been a welcome reprieve from Three's Company which has been getting stale lately. (We're up to re-watching Season 5 or 6, and it's getting pretty awful with their predictable misunderstandings.) Now nothing perks us up more than making fun of Wheels' terrible mullet, Jim imitating L.D.'s weird up n' down stare (which I hadn't noticed until he started acting it out. Hilarious!!), and how they always cut to the upbeat theme music after serious moments. ("Derek, your parents are dead." Do, do, do, do, do, do, dooo! Do, do, do, do, do, dooo! Okay, so it loses something on the page.)

Yesterday with dinner we watched the classic episode "Taking Off - Part One" where Wheels tries to hitchhike to surprise his biological father in Port Hope, and then the perverted vacuum cleaner salesman tries to molest him. Oh lordy, I haven't laughed so hard in I don't know how long! 

Degrassi, how I've missed thee!