Travel is nice, but I do like to be at home.

That’s where I get the best sleep, and feel the most comfortable. There are the people I care most about right here under my feet, and nothing much else to worry about beyond them. My hobbies are here, my best working conditions are here, my favourite snacks in my favourite quantities are here. My access to physical media is here, so I don’t have to use copious amounts of data to watch what I already own. Movies, tv shows, cartoons you name it, we have a pretty good library of stuff to read, watch, listen to, or interact with. My garden is here. I can putter around the lawns & trees and tidy up outside for our own benefit here. My shop and select tools are here to fix stuff, make stuff, or alter things are here. I like it here, not out and about. My bathroom is here, which I can reach from any point on the property in just a handful of seconds and foot steps. That’s a top shelf reason to love being at home! In my case anyway.

Only two weeks and a few days remain of Summer Break 2023. It has whizzed by unfathomablly quick. I feel like there is a two week memory hole right dead centre of it all to. Shame about that. But perhaps we can do some fun stuff, more so than usual, to fill up that void zone from late July/early August. We went to see the therapy pigs at Sweet Acres last night. The kids all had a blast. They ran, jumped, shrieked, and flew about like feral children for a couple of hours. We fed the pigs cucumber chunks, and participated in a watermelon smash. The kids all loved that, even if it did get a little messy. Outdoors, few bugs in the cool evening weather. The rain was even kind enough to hold off for us so that we didn’t get soaked.

Hard to believe that nine weeks can sail by so quickly, but here we nearly are, right. Slightly more than two full weeks left, and then the kids are back at it. Grades four, and one. Really real school for the both of them. Do I wish that they would bring back the OAC year? Yes, very much so. As handy as the two year full day kindergarten was for me, an OAC year would be for them. Take the training wheels off, mature for one more year, before you drop a fortune on college/university with out ever having free rein to fail, like you would get in your (FREE) OAC year in high school. The self reliance training you got from an OAC year was a real eye opener for some on just how hard being self motivating can be when you have access to all day parties, events, clubs, computer games, no parents, and more freedom than you’ve ever had in your life. You can’t shelter kids for 14 years of school, in a nanny state of mind, and then fob them off and expect anything other than a melt down or total disorder. The OAC year was the way to test those waters under ideal conditions. Not a new school, not new people, not a new town, not new living conditions, no major expenses for books/courses/food/entertainment. Just the last step off the dock ladder to float out into the water and see if you will sink or swim. And then make adjustments for the year after in order to be successful. But not now. Now it’s no failing, and handholding until you just walk straight off the dock, get soaked, shocked, panic, and flounder. Some kids from lower incomes probably already had to take care of themselves, so can do laundry, cook minor meals, gather themselves for time sensitive tasks. But those who were helped every single step of the way are now frozen, and don’t know where to begin. As the money rolls out of your account regardless of how well they can cope. I’m telling you, the cutting of the OAC year was a mistake. But I have zero facts, data points, nor sources to site here. Just my own experience, and the anectodal stories of the high school teachers I talk to.

Welcome to Saturday. We’ve got some early apple picking to do this afternoon down at the farm. A warm evening in the orchard. I hope the wasps aren’t crazy aggressive yet, as that may pose a significant hazard to my enjoyment of early season apple picking. Otherwise a quiet day ahead. Ciao Bella.

I must have been talking in my sleep – to myself.

Because I would swear up and down that I had the perfect topic to write about today, and that I came up with an exceptional title, and had several points I was going to cover, and now I’m here, and… – blank. Damnit! It’s right there, on the tip of my brain, I know I went over it a bunch of times. Had to of been a very convincing dream/partial waking moment. I don’t know what to say. Oh, oh that sparked it!

I was going to write about how in my dreams I misremember the way architecture looks about places I have spent a lot of time, and over the years (after leaving) I have the same reoccurring dreams that utilize this new, and fantastical designs for the school campus, that when I go back after a few decades I’m shocked to recall just how off my dreams of the places really are. And it’s really very offputting. I have a terrible memory for picking out the year that things happen. Unless it’s really recent, or super huge, like getting married or the birth of my kids. But other life events, no chance. It all runs together in a big muddy puddle. That’s beside the point. I convince myself after years of the same dreams about places, where everything is somewhat similar to reality. Like the entrance to rooms, carpet, tiles, cement structures are very much real, but my dream moves them into new layouts or positions on the grounds, and after repeat exposure I become certain that that is how it actually was. But then you go back and it’s like – oh yeah!, my dreams totally rearranged things, how could I forget! What else am I misremembering? You know, do I recall things about other people that are cobbled together from real actions, but are attributed to the wrong person/people? Am I misremembering things that I think I have/not done? Makes me wonder. Is any of that normal? Also why am I dreaming about these regular places but giving them fantastical redesigns, and then sticking with the redesign when I recall things that have happened there? Did I dream those things that happened too? No, I have ticket stubs, photos, uniforms, text books, pages of notes, and various diplomas and certifications as receipts for being there. It’s not a delusion. Ha.

I bet that if you visited all of the universities, colleges, and training centers I have attended, and those I just visited (like U of G or U of T) you could stitch together photos of real spots to recreate a mosaic of much of what I misremember these places looking like in my dreams.

Otherwise today is Sunday January 22nd of 2023. We had a very light sprinkling of snow last night, the temperature is hovering around minus three, which is warmer than it should be. Usually by now we get in to the late teens, early twenties of below zero temperatures. According to ten years worth of facebook memory posts that is.

So I did have the conversation with myself in bed this morning. It must have occurred right as I was in the middle of coming to though. Ha. What a way to start my day. Ciao Bella!