They say that in order to know where you are going you need to know where you came from… hence taking stalk of the wins and losses of 2023. I had lofty goals for 2023, it was going to be the year of health and fitness, family and dog shows. I started off strong and was managing to complete a 10 minute morning yoga routine and 20 minutes of either strengthening or cardio daily. Some days when I was feeling particularly saucy I even did another 15 minutes of yoga before bed!!! I know… living on the edge senior style! I made it to the middle of February before I fell off the wagon, but the falling was not by choice, it was an accident.
Feb 13, 2023 will be a day that will forever be remembered. I had to go into the office for meetings and rolled in around noon. I didn’t make it more than three steps from my vehicle before my feet shot out from under me and a went down hard, cracking my head on the ice. I hit so hard there was an actual dent in the ice surface where my head had been. Lucky for me I didn’t lose consciousness, but unfortunately I suffered a concussion that I am still recovering from. Months and months and months of screen restrictions, constant low grade headaches, dizziness and brain fog!
Let me tell you this experience has been eye opening to how much screens are in my actual days. Even our work phones have switched over to the computer. Throughout the week all my screen time was allocated to work which meant no Facebook, TV, Ereader, etc when I got home. Because of the concussion, physical activity was limited to short slow paced walks around the block and even that had the tendency to leave me dizzy with a headache, fully regretting that my symptoms were such that it was hard to figure out where the “to much” line was. Some days it was four houses down others I could do three loops of the sniffy block. My fluctuating abilities frustrated me and left me constantly on edge trying to predict when was the best time to turn around and head home.
What does one do to kill 8 hours of “free” time when one cannot access screens, talk on the phone, read anything that is mentally taxing and also has limits on physical activity?
Well it stumped me as well…. At least until I found a pack of cards when digging in a drawer. It was the dawn of the age of Solitaire. Hours upon hours were spent shuffling and dealing cards. Over and over and over. The monotony of it was soothing. As my Rehab progressed I used the cards to help me overcome my right side neglect working the cards from right to left vs left to right. This change also identified another symptom that I was unaware of… number reversals! 9’s became 6’s and quickly shifted back, etc. Very freaky and I’m glad that particular symptom was quick to recover.
Solitaire was my saving grace. It allowed me to get out of my head and to temporarily forget about my injury and the next blow that came my way… the reading of my Grandma’s Will. According to her Will her only grandchildren are my cousins. This “news” came the day after I had a great dream where I spent the full day with my Grandma laughing and talking. The dream relationship was everything that I had ever hoped our real relationship would have been. Sadly it was just that… a dream.
The sucky part about death is it robs you of the opportunity to clarify what the other person intended and of a chance to resolve any conflict. It also messes with your mind. The brain can’t help making up a story to explain the “Why?”. I couldn’t help but wonder if every time I had visited her or sent her cards or gifts, if her first thought was “Look at her trying to suck up to me to get back in the Will!”, a will that I never thought I was in to begin with. I wish she would have said something, as we would have had an opportunity to talk it through, even if it meant we had to leave it at agreeing to disagree. It would have also given me an opportunity to verify that my only hope was that we could have a relationship like I dreamed about… one filled with love, laughs and sharing… one that would leave fond memories to reminisce about. It was difficult not to have my memories of our time together tainted by the lens of what she might have/could have been thinking… and the story I was telling myself was not a pleasant one.
You might be asking what did you do to warrant being erased. Well I would tell you if I knew but I guess her reasoning will remain a mystery as she didn’t care to share it with us alive or dead.
Well I played Solitaire as if my life depended on it. T. Swift and Lewis Capadli provided the musical backdrop for my pain and free falling tears. I played so much I started to develop blisters on my fingers and repetitive strain symptoms in my thumbs. My need to numb was waging war with my ability to use my hands. There was no question that I needed to expand my coping mechanisms, fast, or I would be facing some serious hand challenges in the near future.
Luck was in my favour in the form of my prolific reader friends who dropped off “fluffy” books that my brain could handle reading for 5-10 minutes at a time. My brain started out only being able to handle one to two paragraphs at a time, but by the end of the week I could read a chapter. By the end of the next week I was up to two chapters at a time. WHOOT WHOOT!
By mid-March my symptoms had only marginally improved which meant continued restrictions for traveling and screen time. This meant I was not cleared to attend my Grandma’s Celebration of Life. Honestly, even if I had been able to travel I don’t know if I would have had it in me to make a 18+ hour drive on dicey winter highways to attend. I also question if she would have wanted me there, given in her mind I was wiped from existence. The risk of becoming very bitter and ‘erasing” all my happy memories of her was high. I had a decision to make… was I going to hold onto the feelings of pain, anger and injustice and let them fester and grow or was I going to strive to rise above it?
My choice was to rise above it. Life is too short to allow one person to define me. Of course this is easier to say now that time has provided distance and perspective. At the time I had a number of choice words to say on the subject. Maybe it was fate that I had screen restrictions, as it made sure that I did not blog mad.
When working out how not to turn into a bitter old hag I came up with the perfect solution to kill two birds with one stone. My Grandma was a painter in her spare time and I fondly remember looking at her work and imagining what it would be like to have the talent to create out of nothing. I was 100% convinced from a young age that I sucked at art. So much so, that when faced with the choice between Band and Art in Junior High there was not even a millisecond of hesitation before the word BAND came out of my mouth. About 5 years ago I had completed a few Paint Nights which made me think maybe, just maybe, there might be a possibility that I could be a painter if I really applied myself. But I lacked the motivation to do much but dabble at painting every now and then. I found myself asking “What if I did apply myself? What if I painted to honour and pay tribute to Grandma?” At worst I would have some crap paintings that could be tossed, at best I would grow and heal. Either way creating proved that not only did I exist but it also meant that I could turn something that was meant to hurt me into something that ended on a positive note. That is how the Existence Series came to be.
I decided that my first painting would focus on a crocus and would be completed on the day of my Grandma’s Celebration of Life. The crocus had significance as it was a crocus which was the subject matter of one of my favourite Grandma J paintings and is the provincial flower of where she was born, lived and is buried.
I lost track of how many times I asked myself why I didn’t just select a simple picture of a crocus in a field… no…. Not me…. Let’s paint a crocus growing out of a crack in rock which lots of lichen and rock texture detail. For me the crack and the rock were symbolic of the situation I found myself in. What I needed was the resilience of this flower and the assurance that growth can happen even in an environment/situation that is hard. If I was to paint this picture again, I would place the crocus slightly more to the left vs closer to the middle, I was pleased with how the rock, the crocus and the lichen turned out but I totally need to work on developing my detail skills (leaves in the crack) and in conveying depth.
Resilience 9X11”
My next two paintings took me to my happy place. If I couldn’t visit in person at least I could be there in spirit. The pasture is one of my all time happy places. It was the location of lots of adventures with my Grandpa and a host of family celebrations. I spent many hours here with my family, cousins, uncles and aunts tobogganing, searching for Easter eggs, Christmas tree “hunting” and eating meals cooked over an open fire. Often times we found crocus along with our Easter Eggs, which was always a lovely surprise and a sure sign that summer was just around the corner.
Tranquility 12X36”
Just looking at this I can hear the buzz of the bugs and the chirp of the crickets along with feeling the heat of the summer sun baking into my skin as I walked down the road to the cattle guard.
Raised Up 24X48”
Okay a funny aside about this painting…. As I was painting this one, my Mom asked me about a picture that I took while we were at the pasture in 2022. The picture she referred to looked up the hill toward where the original cabin had been on the property. I looked and looked and could not find it. I figured I accidentally deleted it and was kinda ticked at myself. It wasn’t until I was home again in October and I was walking up the same hill that I thought… man those really look like the trees I painted… but that can’t be… those trees are to the east of here. I decided to reference the pictures in my phone and burst out laughing… those were the trees I had painted after all and I hadn’t deleted the picture. The joke was on me.
I dedicated this one to my Mother who is my pillar of strength and who sets a good example of how to rise above strife with dignity, grace and sometimes with Momma Bear attitude!
I took a quick break from grass, trees and sky to attempt a smaller painting of a ditch flower. I like the background and the center of the flower the best, but this isn’t my favourite painting out of the series. Linda (my mother and art critic) felt the original painting was lacking something and encouraged me to add in more detail and shading. I took her notes to heart and made some changes. Still not my favourite but it is better.
Sunshine 12X12
The next few paintings paid homage to my Grandparent’s legacy. All of these properties are now sold but for a long time they were owned by my Grandparents. The Home place was actually passed down to my Grandpa by his Dad and was farmed by Orr’s for close to 100 years. Dec 2022 it was all bulldozed down to make it all one big field. I haven’t had the courage to go by to see what it looks like now. I far prefer to picture it like this and to remember all the happy times climbing trees, using the bales as a fort and the high stakes game of running through the feed lot to “evade the bull”. Good times!!!
Generations 12 X 36”
The Campbell place was the place to be at sunset, as the shelter belt created a dramatic silhouette for the setting sun to hide behind. It was also fun visiting the Campbell place in the spring, as there was always a flooded section of road that we tried to convince my Dad he could jump the family land yacht over, just like the Dukes of Hazzard. We were disappointed when he made the practical choice to drive around it, but there was always the hope that next time we would sway him and he would make an attempt.
There is something beautiful about wheat stubble at sunset, everything glows all different shades of yellow and gold. Often times you can find Sandhill Cranes enjoying this every spot.
Roots 12 X36”
I impressed myself with the details and the contours of Roots and decided it was time to really challenge myself with my next painting. I had just purchased palette knives and decided that my next painting would be done with knives vs brushes. I chose to paint a Lake Superior Park scene (thanks for the inspiration Jake). It definitely did not start out well. There was blobs of colour all over the canvas but I could not figure out how to make forms out of the colours. I kept at it and eventually got to a spot where I was pleased with the overall layout and composition. I did end up using brushes for the sign, if I hadn’t I would still be working on this painting.
Guidance
Let me tell you, at this point, I truly needed guidance/a sign that there would be an end to the concussion symptoms, as no matter what I did I could not progress past 4 hours of screen time and the amount of work that I needed to complete that involved screens was mounting faster and faster. An even bigger hit was my inability to drive for more than three hours at a time. This meant that I had to cancel a planned trip to Saskatchewan and Manitoba for dog shows and visits with family in May.
The hits kept on coming. One day I was working from home when I saw someone come to my door with flowers. I got excited, as typically the only flowers in my house are the ones I buy myself. I was giddy as I answered the door and accepted the roses from the delivery person. Who would send me roses???? Life is the best!
It was around this time that I read the card and realized that the flower weren’t for me, but were for my neighbour (insert dramatic wah, wah, wah music here). I shared my lament on Facebook, mainly because I did find the humour in it all. Well it turned out that someone felt I deserved some excitement too and the next day these were delivered to my house…. Way better than roses!!!! I will admit that when the delivery person showed up at my door the first words out of my mouth were… “You’ve got to be kidding me… not again… they are for next door!”. Then I heard the person say my name and a 30 second dance party ensued. I was so pleased that I forgot to monitor the dogs and Ferg made a break for it and jumped in the delivery person’s van. Ferg likes to be where it is happening and he likes smiles so I am sure he felt he was born to bring people flowers.
By the end of June, after a trip to Hornepayne, I knew I did not have the ability to drive more than 4 hours a day, which meant that another trip home for visiting and a dog show had to be cancelled. It turned out for the best as I was told by WSIB that they were arranging for me to be further assessed and I would not be able to miss, cancel or reschedule the appointment once WSIB booked it. I was told I would get two weeks notice. Well it turned out I got two days notice and the appointments were booked right in the middle of when I was supposed to be in Manitoba. So instead of visiting and home cooked meals I had hours of after work assessments right before the long weekend!!!! Look at me living large!
The assessment was really through and intense. So intense that I spent the entire weekend in bed laying low, as my symptoms flared big time. The results highlighted that I had oversold my level of recovery. Going in I thought I was at 75- 80% recovery. I left knowing that I was more likely hovering around 65%. Split attention, blank spots in my visual field, recognizing familiar faces and processing speed had all taken at hit and although most skills had returned to “normal” range for someone my age, some were still slow to recover. This made sense as higher level skills that required lots of thinking took longer to complete, my memory had been subpar and group interactions and meetings plunged me into the deep end of symptomville (dizzy, brain fog, memory impairment and anxiety out the Wazzho).
With minimal improvement, unfinished work mounting by the day, not being able to see family and the disappointment of having plan after plan foiled I reached an all time low for morale. At the same time we were unable to fill two vacancies at work so the high priority work from these two positions shifted over to me, which meant increased reports, visits and overnight travel. All this with continued screen and travel restrictions. Let me tell you it was a character building summer which had me working most of it including a number of weekends, as I figured out weekends constituted 8 hours of untapped screen time that I hadn’t been using.
My saving grace was farm sitting on the weekends, as it gave me another non-screen time activity to
Farm life did not always go so smoothly this year. First off was the flood. I had just finished writing some reports and headed downstairs to switch which dogs were outside. I opened the door to the basement and stared down into a lake. A pipe had burst and flooded the basement. It’s a good thing the boarder dogs were outside when it happened and the ones inside were water dogs. I turned off the water and started bailing one handed with a pail while I phoned the farm owner.
Enter Ron who dropped everything and raced over with his wet vac, knowledge of plumbing and ability to prime a pump. He was coolness in the face of pressure. Managing to help with clean-up, to fix the sump pump, get the water pump working again and more importantly he figured out how make sure there was water going to most of the house so one could use washrooms and there was drinking water. It was excitement I could have done without.
The next water related fiasco was a toilet related. The flap in the toilet did not close which meant the toilet tank kept filling and ran the well dry. By the time I noticed it was too late and the water pump needed priming. Having learned from watching Ron I grabbed buckets to collect the water and armed with a wrench I set about priming the pump. It went wrong very fast. As soon as I opened the valve, water exploded out of the pump…. Not what I prepared for. It is hard to collect water in a bucket when it is shooting straight into the air. I sighed and resigned myself to yet another evening of mopping up water.
One would think that I would just call it quits but I seriously thought I could fix it. Many attempts latter I admitted defeat and drove back into town to collect water in jugs to bring back to the farm for use over the course of the weekend. It wasn’t until 2:00 am that I woke with a start thinking about the septic system and what a continuous flow of water could do to it. Goggling did not alleviate my fears! And that is how I ended up creeping around in the dark in my PJ’s with my phone flash light at 2:30 am sniffing for poo smells. Luckily the septic system survived!
Super Ron was kind enough to cut into his camping time to come and reprime the pump the next day. Which was a good thing as the dogs were going through water like we on the shores of Lake Superior. These little water mishaps totally cured me from thinking that I could live on a farm. I am not handy enough and appreciate the small things like a continuous supply of water, quick access to plumbing support, etc, etc.
I did not have high hopes for the Dude and just prayed to the Gods that he kept his feet on the floor didn’t run out of the ring and maybe, just maybe he would complete a few signs. Well didn’t the bugger go in there and perform at top level each time. He got his Rally Excellent title in his first three attempts. The female judge remembered him from the year before and commented on how much he had improved. If only she had saw him at the Sudbury show.
Next up was the CARO shows. Lyndy missed out on the early trial as I thought she would be in heat.
The next two runs he went over the jump but I messed up one sign each time…. What are the odds??? On his final run he had a perfect score and one leg toward his CARO Advanced title. What is it about the Advanced level that he has such a problem with????
Hazel and Lyndy also competed. Three dogs at one trial… look at me go!. Both earned their CRNMCL titles with Lyndy being the slightly stronger dog on the field.
August flew by in a blur of work, rehab and travel to and from the farm. Before I knew it it was Sept and my screen and driving restrictions were finally lifted. But as the saying goes when the Good Lord giveth he also taketh away. My plans to go backpacking at the start of Sept were dashed by the need for major truck repairs (power steering and wheel speed sensor to be exact). I didn’t want to risk a power steering fail with a truck load of dogs so I did what seemed to be the theme of the summer, I cancelled my plans. SIGH! Instead I installed a fence.
I spent the beginning part of Sept frantically catching up on outstanding assessment and end of block reports that I couldn’t get to due to the screen restrictions. I managed to get all but four done. Not bad given the shear amount of reports that I had to do.
Even buried under a mountain of paperwork I found time to train Lyndy and Hazel so that they could work toward their Canine Good Neighbour title in Sept. They both achieved it. WHOOT WHOOT!
Sept also marked Whisper’s last litter. I missed the birth of the first puppy but she held out delivering the next 9 until I arrived. How I love puppies of any size!
Oct earmarked as vacation month and I travelled home with Ferg and the Ladies. Whisper remained at the farm with her babies. It was a whorl wind trip but one with perfect timing. I was able to catch-up with my Besties from high-school (one of which I haven’t seen since her wedding 14 years before). I got to spend lots of time with the parents and found out the hot-dogs are not just incentives to get dogs to moving faster, it also works for Dad’s. Another valuable lesson that I learned was guard you pancakes when Dad is around, because if he wants them he will take them… my nephew found that out the hard way. I also got to meet my Sister’s new Lab Leonard, who proceed to sprain one of my fingers and then was involved in an incident with Lyndy that resulted in a dislocation of my fibula.
What happened you ask?
Well I was taking a picture of the Raised Up trees and Leonard and Lyndy were running full tilt up the road behind me. I heard them, but thought they would split and run around me. What I didn’t know was Leonard had Lyndy’s head in his mouth while they were running so neither were looking and they plowed right into me. I went down like a sack of potatoes in the exact same way as when I broke my ankle. The pain was intense but there was no snapping so I knew I hadn’t broke anything. Sadly from first hand knowledge I also knew from the pain pattern that I had dislocated the bone. My mother… ever caring started laughing and all she could say was “I’m going to pee my pants…. I’m going to pee my pants!” When I guilted her about her lack of empathy her comment was “I at least waited until I knew you were okay…. But it was so funny, you should have seen it as it happened. I’m going to pee my pants!!!”.
Now I couldn’t let a minor thing like a dislocation derail our plans, so in true Orr fashion I got up and shook it off and we continued with our hike through the pasture to take pictures. We had walked a fair distance before my Dad phoned and reminded us that there had been feral pigs in the area and cautioned us against letting the dogs run free, for fear that super pigs would harm the dogs and/or us. Here we were 4 km away from the vehicle and safety with no leashes, as the worst thing we thought the dogs could get into was poison ivy. It didn’t take long for us both to nervously suggest we turn around. I told Mom to save the dogs and herself if we did encounter the pigs, as it wasn’t like I was going to be able to make a speedy retreat if the super pigs decided to attack. As you can probably gather the pigs took pity on us and left us alone.
Whew!
We were home for five days before Lyndy, Hazel and I were back on the road to Sudbury for another dog
The rest of Oct and Nov was dedicated to end of block visits and the associated paperwork. In Sept everyone wondered how on earth I was going to supervise intervention for 79 children and finish all the work that it involved, let alone all the other work I had to accomplish for the other part of my job….. well I did it. I managed to attend and complete as much of the paperwork as I could for 70% of the kids, finished the four reports that were left over from the summer and managed to complete 10 more assessments and reports. It dang near killed me and meant cancelling some more vacation, but I got it done and as of Dec 10th I started vacation.
I toyed with going to Manitoba for the holidays, but decided that I would be better served focusing on replenishing my health. Enter a solid month of yoga and meditation. I also finished off two more paintings. One that I had started in the summer.
Breethe 12X36”
And the last being a painting that my Mother and I agreed to paint as a final tribute to Grandma J.
Connections 48X36”
Well there you have it 2023 in all it’s glory, travesty and everything in between. A lot of living and report writing happened this year. Here is hoping that 2024 is a little less exciting and happens at a slightly slower pace.
What is up for 2024. Well first off I will be painting another scene my mother and I jointly selected to paint. We both felt it symbolized new beginnings and would usher 2024 in with gratitude. With this in mind the theme for my 2024 painting series will be Gratitude.
Also given the positive feedback I have received from people in the hood who have been walking by as I photograph my paintings I am strongly considering having an art sale in my yard… Can you say Upton Art???
BONUS Painting
Here is a partially completed painting that I started in the summer, but did not finish, mainly because I effed up the clouds and I’m still trying to figure out how to fix it. It was another attempt at using only palette knives. I love the water and the sun… now to problem solve the clouds and come up with a name.
You are simply amazing! So many stories I can relate so well with you, others I can only admire your strength and dignity. In the end, we can laugh and say ‘I made it through’.
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