reach for the sky

Tornadoes, forest fires, flooding, earthquake, what's going on! All day it was so dark in Montreal, it felt like a dream. I live on a tall tree-lined street, which attracts a lot of birds, especially crows. The other day when I felt down, a crow squawked from an overhead branch. I looked up and the crow looked at me and I looked at the crow. Gazing into the crow's eyes immediately made me relax and feel spacious. Even in a big city, it's possible to connect with nature.

lunch time

For years, Lohbado has been eating spaghetti, with a little olive oil and cheese, plus sometimes a pickle, for lunch. Today is no exception. Lohbado-style spaghetti has a subtle, unspectacular flavor, similar to the taste of the inside of one's cheeks. Lohbado spaghetti is a low stress food, leaving few surprises for the palate.

Christina and Pokey

A sunny afternoon on a back balcony in Little Italy, Montreal, Christina and Pokey let me take their picture. After a long winter, followed by a stormy, rainy spring, a sunny afternoon creates euphoria.

smells

Lohbado's apartment smelled like digestion. Clothes absorbed the damp compost odor. Steamy Lohbado went outside to dry. He visited Lohbada. Her apartment smelled like stomach and intestines, a little gall bladder and spleen, not to mention pancreas, adding to the stuffed, swollen ooze putrefaction. Lohbado and Lohbado hugged each other in a putrefactory apartment containing mold on mildew walls. After, they walked to the plaza. Food for ants, turkey, crab, rabbits by the dozen, sleeping dogs and kittens were down at the plaza during the sunny weekend, oozing and frisky.

First Drink

Brother Kenneth has his first drink after lent ritual abstinence. From Ash Wednesday to Easter, no alcohol, until 8 PM, we counted the seconds, bottle of brandy raised and then that first hot flash of hard liquor. It's both practical and religious. It's practical to save money. It costs a lot to drink every day. It's cheaper to drink only during special occasions. It's religious to take spirits into the blood stream and to bathe the brain in distilled liquor. Hallelujah! This is something I can believe.

cremation

Lohbado wandered down a sidewalk, which sloped downwards, outside the hospital. Years ago, he worked in a hospital. One of his jobs was to burn things from pathology. When the freezer got full, he'd wheel a cart loaded with black plastic bags to the incinerator and burn them. One time he and his buddy Edgar tore open some bags to have a peek at what was inside. They saw livers, brains, a stomach and stuff like that, body parts from autopsies or operations. Edgar opened the metal door. They threw in the garbage bags and pulled a lever.

Everything would turn to ash. Eventually his body would be a corpse. Lohbado wanted to be cremated. Sometimes, as a body burns, it has to be raked with a poker, to make sure all the bones get burned. Little chunks of bones sometimes remained in the ashes. The ashes would be put in metal boxes and then given to someone who knew the deceased. If nobody claimed the ashes, they would be stored for a few years before being buried along with the contents of other unclaimed urns.

Windows 2011

Windows may be enjoyed in 2011 and for the forseeable future in the large Jewish General Hospital complex on Cote des Neiges in Montreal. One of my children was born in that hospital. I often pause, while walking up the hill, to contemplate the windows and to imagine what sort of activity is going on inside. Unlike electronic gadgets and software, the hospital bricks survive decades, without yearly updates. There's no need for plugins or addons. It's refreshing to see something so solid, sitting there on the edge of a hill, a place of birth, death, accident and sickness. I often hear ambulances racing along that street, heartache, sorrow and pain. I hope the patients in there soon recover and have peace of mind.