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.