itsawonderfilledlife

A good old walk will clear any befuddled brain, and that is what I did when the rain halted, and the sun came out to fill us with it’s energy giving Vitamin D.

I was feeling good, and my beastie at my side was smiling (if you could see her face when we are out for a walk, or, for that matter when she hears the word WALK, you too would agree that she is smiling … but, I digress). The sky was actually a beautiful bright blue, a nice change from the shades of gray that we normally face here on the Wet Coast during monsoon season West Coast during winter.

I knew my brain was befuddled, because I kept making errors in my responses to people, as we walked. As one couple passed and said something complimentary about my beastie (which caused swelling of her head to the point that I had to grease her head just to get her back in the van … but, I digress), to which I replied, “oh, she thinks she is a laptop.” A laptop? Seriously? I had meant a LAP DOG, but that is not what came out of my mouth. Unfortunately, I did not realize my error of words until they were too far gone in the other direction for me to correct myself. I wonder how far they had gone before they realized what I had said? I wonder if they called emergency services to report a weirdo on the trail?

The walk was full of people with smiles on their faces, drinking in the sun and warm breezes. Most were shouting out happy greetings, and all commenting on the beauty of the day. This is a West Coast survival technique. It could have been raining for a month straight, but as soon as the sun comes out, so do all the people, smiling and declaring how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place, and that we do not have to deal with snow. I believe there is a psychological diagnosis here, waiting to happen (I’m betting that there are more prescriptions filled in the lower mainland for Prozac than the rest of snowy Canada combined! Again, I digress).

So, as I am passing happy person, after happy person, and to one I initiate a greeting, “good morning.” And in those two words, I have let it be known that I have, indeed, lost it. It is four in the afternoon! Sure one could make a mistake at one o’clock with saying good morning, but no, I did so a good four hours into the afternoon. What was worse was that I felt I needed to correct myself, but my verbal language skills were so lacking that I just sounded like I was speaking another language. I am sure the poor person kept walking, faster than before our chance encounter, figuring that I was on drugs! I began to question whether or not I might have had a stroke … but, alas unintelligible speech was my only symptom.

Sigh … this is why we frail human beings need to own a beast. They cannot understand more than three words (walk, eat, treat) in English, and they love us … in spite of our befuddled brains.

Maybe next time I will just let the beastie do the talking.