Thursday, December 24, 2015

Christmas Eve

It's December 24, a few hours short of a month since I wrote here. I have no particular excuse for being absent. It has been a full month, but not a wildly busy time for me. I guess part of it is that I have a daily routine, which I apparently follow virtually every day, so that an "extraneous" activity like writing has no assigned place.

Routine is one of the ways I order my life to give it some meaning. I'm not involved in any grand scheme or activity - sometimes I think I should be - but the end of the day comes quickly each and every day.  The one activity in which I engage is my morning swim. I chug up and down the pool for 30 - 45 minutes every weekday morning, careful to go slowly, so as not to provoke an angina attack. So far, so good, and I do puff and sweat in the doing of it. A good workout. I have mostly abandoned walking for the winter. Too slippery. I fell once last year and became aware that this is how old folks break hips. I slid down once earlier this winter - no hard fall - but a warning I will heed, now that I have found an alternative. I ache afterwards, shoulder and knees, but that's common at my age.

I rejoice in the pool, and think, and pay attention to my body and how it speaks to me. I suppose that's a continuation of recovery. It never ends. When you are 81, it's recovery or rapid decline. Decline comes anyway, but I resist it as much as I am able.

One thing that has occupied my thoughts and reflections through this December is the deepening power of consumerism on all of us. I spent two part-days in the Bower Mall in Red Deer a few frantic faces around me, although clearly some people appeared to be enjoying themselves. The shops seemed desperate in their displays, a concomitant of our sagging economy here in Alberta. Many people are out of work who have become accustomed to "the Life" as I call it. You know: a fifth wheel, a big truck, snow mobiles and ATV's, all on payments. When the income shrinks, the pressure is acute, and unfamiliar. It's been awhile since Alberta's had a "bust", and everybody was comfortable in the "boom." So Christmas is hard for many. Food bank usage is up, the unemployment rate is higher than the national average, and many people are afraid and angry. After a few years of good living, the arrival of austerity feels like your being cheated, having become used to good living. Not a pleasant prospect. There's been a lot of talk about this at Tim's as pensioners look at their shrinking wallets.

At a more personal level, this Christmas has brought one change to my
'celebration' of the season. I failed to put up a Christmas tree. First time ever. The reason is terribly practical. I was afraid of wrestling and struggling with a tree, fearful of upper body exertion that would spark an angina attack. I remembered the trials of last year, putting up a lovely tree. Neither of us can stomach a fake tree, which leaves me with a dilemma. I'm not happy with no tree, but fearful of the task of putting it up. I'll have to figure out a solution before next year, because I don't want to do this again. I wonder how many other 80+ year olds feel in the same boat? I'll ask around over the next few weeks.

Our friends the Chans will be here tonight, and will stay for Christmas. On Boxing day - my birthday - Beatrix and I will go to Edmonton to tour the Legislature, and look at the Magna Carta, which is here until the 29th of December. I'm looking forward to that.

Hopefully, it won't be another month before I write again. In the meantime, whatever your faith, or lack of it, enjoy the holiday, religious or secular, in good health. See you in 2016!

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