F 1 D 0 -- 02 05 14 at 00 15 Vitamins. I use vitamins. I recommend them. I hate them. Or at least, I truly hate taking them. Tonight, I managed swallowing perhaps 8 ounces of air with my four pills. Oh, I can see you shaking your head in derision. Carry on making fun. I've never learned how to happily take a pill. Or bunch of pills. Happily. A partial lie. I can swallow some of them. If they don't have a yucky smell, I can anyway. But my nemesis is Vitamin B Complex. I truly need this one. I can tell because it makes me feel alert and wonderful once it hits paydirt, and has been thorougly absorbed by my body. Something about the process makes me afraid, and in so doing, causes me lots of stress. I leave the pills on the counter after I count them out, in a mute wish that perhaps they'll disappear. And worse, I begin to gag each time I think about them. Tonight's problem was bothersome. I swallowed them down, and the diet pepsi washed right by them. I only had an ounce or two left in the bottle, so now I'm panicking! How will I get them down? I'm choking from the bad smell of B's in my mouth. What will I do?? Anyway, in a burst of fear I manage getting them down with the drops which remain. And, I also swallow all sorts of air. That seems to be the beginning of a trend, because no for hours beyond, I'm burping up stuff. Far more gas than I recall swallowing. I do understand what is going on. The stress has caused the pills I swallowed to effervesce or something, and now I'm fizzing inside of me. Joy. I felt intensely ill for a couple of hours, chilly for no reason. Ann made me some chamomile tea, and that has settled it down, if only a wee bit. I've had good luck with coating the pills with creamery butter, when they are dry. I should do that more often. I'm less nervous when I do that. I guess I like butter enough that I'll swallow anything I suppose. Today I tried something new. I went to a driving range. They have a summer special at the big golf dome here. That is worthy of description, and I'll take a picture for you sometime. I promise. It deserves it, and so do you. This place is shaped a lot like the shell of a sea turtle. Or a tortoise. It is made of a double layer of tent. There is a lot of air pumped into the facility, and that keeps the place looking right. I wonder what happens if there is a city wide power failure? The whole joint falls down? Well if it does, it will happen slowly. This is a very big complex. It has an entranceway made of rectangular cement block bricks, and they hold the wheel chair doors, the revolving doors and a couple of public bathrooms. Each of the doors in this place has a warning: Open only one door at a time. Only keep open as long as necessary. Well, I have almost no experience with golfing, personally. Oh, my customers have lots. Guru and Wizi, also known as Alexandra and David Gellman, love to golf. I hope they pay their final bill to me. I spent a day helping them get this super big colour laser printer. What do you charge for just wandering around with people, helping them shop? I asked them to figure this out ('ask the cards', I said, as they're very effective at using Tarot, 'and just send it my way'). Well, the number is small, but I'd still appreciate the payment. They spend all of their spare time hitting golf balls around. I think they organize a festival or something once a year too. Today was the day I gave it a try. I spent 4.00 on a bucket with about 80 balls in it, and another 1.00 on a club. Prices double in the fall. As long as I did what the guys in the next booth were doing, I'd have good luck. Good luck means I hit the ball in the direction I wanted. But whenever I just tried to do what I know: bend knees, form a triangle with arms, follow through, hand grip as taught on golf television, etc, it went where it pleased. How so? Half of the time I hit the air. The other half the time I hit the plastic astro turf so hard, I'm glad I was one of three people trying to do the golf thing. There were about six people dressed in bright orange watching me play. Watching me Far Too Closely. But they looked bored, and if I was entertaining them, then fine. I went to the girl at the cash register, and borrowed a left handed club, as my arms got all tired out, and so I figured I should balance out the muscle use. It isn't like I'm golfing frequently. I only discovered this place because there was a trade show here in town. Well, that is a misnomer, but I'll go as often as they have a show. It was the selling part of the local exhibition! Three buildings full of small booths with all of the local businesses. Best Western hotel had a booth from their Duluth MN location. Shaw Cable and Thunder Bay Mobility had high speed internet displays. All of the paint people had things for me to look at. One guy had private sale car additives made out of metal alloys. I bought some snake oil too: One young man was selling "fire steel", a metal key which makes mountains of sparks when scratched with another metal thing. If I wrote you yesterday, I would have said that this was useless. It makes big sparks but you need gasoline and match to make a fire. Well, I'm writing you today, and can say that the product works. Big sparks, and I lit a scrap of napkin on fire. I'm seriously impressed. You get two of them for $20. Anyway, this "trade show" happened next to the golf dome and the movie place. I wanted to see what was inside, and even though it was clear there was no show in there, we explored. The place is so bright! It has all of these tropical plants everywhere. As you enter, you see the golf pro shop, and the restaurant. Lots of signs telling you that outside food is forbidden here. No surprise. If they only charge 5.00 plus tax for an hour's worth of balls in a basket, I can see their concern. As I write, I continue to sip this chamomile tea stuff. The cramps moved south, and what you expect happened. I'm in good humour in spite of all. Today we went to the Thunder Bay dump. That's about 12 km along John Street Road. That's not a typo. The "John Street Road" is long, and runs east-west into Thunder Bay, where it ends at John Street. Toronto has a road like that: Avenue Road. They used to call St Clair Avenue "The Avenue". So the street which take everyone to St Clair would be called "The Avenue Road". But, truth be told, I think both names (John Street Road, and Avenue Road) are just slightly silly. Slightly. It was a long run. We saw all sorts of storms as we drove out that way. But by the time we actually got inside the dump, there were just sprinkles of rain. This dump is so big. You go inside the gates, and it looks like a provincial park, or a border crossing. There is a sign, with a traffic light: (red) Stop. (yellow) Park and come inside.(green) Drive onto scale. But it lies, if only a little bit. Before you can drive into this dump, you have to feed a machine 2.00 for it to open the gate. Then you get onto the scale, and there are more signals. (yellow) forward. (yellow) reverse. (red) park vehicle, come inside). (yellow) please wait. (green) leave scale, proceed inside. So now we drive into the dump. Maximum speed 20 kmh. The place has a faint bowel smell. Signs direct us to the right for composting, to the left for metal, and straight ahead for other things. The road is very long, I think. We drive for ages, and when we get to the end, there are about a dozen other trucks. Some are small, some are large professional ones. We have all of the junk from the basement work recently done. Old metal pipes, rotted wood, broken counter top, melted wood from the shower base. We also took all of the waste we'd been accumulating in the kitchen and elsewhere. It unloaded faster than it loaded. But that isn't a surprise. What I wasn't prepared for was how intense the soil smelled. How BAD it was. I'm not describing the garbage, but the actual soil. I feel so badly for the folks who have to maintain this place. And with all of the trucks that I saw dumping, there has to be many people working there. I was watching for Bald Eagles. Didn't see any. Also looked for Bears. None of them. I did see many Sea Gulls. Also some pidgeons, and some crows. But the bird count here is very high. THOUSANDS. Easily. If I ever want to do a remake of Hitchcock's The Birds, this is where I should do it. We will be packing for leaving next Monday. Life should go from hectic to insane. I'll write to you when I can. That's all I know.