The Rain, the Park and Other Things

I live in a temperate rain forest; here it rains many days out of many. Also, I am a bit lazy, doing as little yardwork as I can get away with. I confess to ignoring the plants until they are visibly distressed; it seems to me that they should be able to take care of themselves more than they do. Yes, I am a bit neglectful, but my excuse is that time passes so very quickly, and I can rationalize not watering because I live in a temperate rain forest and it seems that my reasons for not hauling out a hose outnumber my reasons for hauling out a hose to water the patio plants.

So I’m conducting an experiment (much of life might benefit from being viewed as an experiment), collecting rain water in buckets. I know that collecting rainwater is illegal in many places (, but Vancouver is not one of these [we can also keep backyard chickens here (which I have considered, but realized that my proven tendency to be neglectful and forgetful might be deadly to animals), which makes us progressive in a back-to-the-old ways kind of way].

Speaking of being progressive in a back-to-the-old ways kind of way, since I moved back to Mount Pleasant, I have found myself part of a community of friends: Bobbi (I used to refer to her as Rob/Bob my ex), Bobbi’s partner Jenn, Bobbi’s best friend, April, and me. I live in the middle of all of us, and I have a fabulous and spacious patio. The four of us get together often for impromptu bbq and laughter sessions on my patio.

We haven’t always got along so well; Bobbi and I split up in early 2000, and initially didn’t hang out much. That said, Bobbi was always diligent in making sure that I didn’t let my reclusiveness expand into too much isolation.

From that beginning, Bobbi and I have been able to salvage a wonderful friendship from the rubble of our failed relationship. I admit it wasn’t always this easy, in fact our becoming such good friends, our evolving into being parts of one anothers’ intimate circles, has been a bit of a process, passing through (mostly) extreme anger and (mostly) deep sadness territory to get to (mostly) forgiving and (mostly) accepting country. I have had to learn not to let myself get angry when the triggering things come up, and I must say that it’s much better now, not wallowing in futile fury. “Let it go and breathe,” I tell myself.

I sold thisCastle August 2012 and moved back to Mount Pleasant, across the street from China Creek North Park, pretty much exactly halfway between the two homes of Bobbi and her partner Jenn – six blocks in either direction. Now Bobbi, Jenn (B’s partner) and I often socialize together; we hang out, we go to events, and, sometimes, we travel together to the Island, they to visit Bobbi’s family, I to visit friends. While there we may see each other. My social situation has expanded dramatically.

Angelo, one of my male friends, once told me that he would never date a woman who is friends with her ex, because it would freak him out too much. Angelo is really cis-gender, and strives for normalcy. He also once told me that he was so homophobic that when he had a bad back and couldn’t bend over, he wouldn’t let his brother put on his socks for him. Now, I think he’s a bit in the closet, but that’s another story.

One day the subject of the USA came up. Angelo thought there were 51 united states, and argued this with me (I said 50). He asked someone else, another guy, older and more successful, who had a better education than him to back him up. The other guy apologized and said, “I’m sorry, Angelo, but there’s 50.”

Yes, we all live in Canada, but I really thought that the number of united states was common knowledge, which led me to do an informal survey at work, I asked the question, and two of the women I worked with wouldn’t answer. I should have known better, but I badgered them a bit and they said that they had no idea. I told them to guess. One of them said 38 and the other said 42. Yes, we all live in Canada, but I didn’t know that the number of united states was so subjective.

Anyway, getting back to the amount of rain – it was drizzling pretty much all last evening, and just before Bobbi left at about 10 pm, it really started to come down in sheets. I woke up at about 10 am, and checked the amount of rain in the buckets. Level was up about 2 and a half inches since 12 hours earlier (about 6 cm, so about 0.5 cm/hour). Lots.

~ by thiscassandra on Friday 12 July 2013.

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