This fuckin' ramp is starting to drive me nuts.

June 20 , 2008.

Oh my God - I took on the job of trying, and I repeat trying, to build a ramp so that I can get my bike and sidecar into the wonderful shed friends of mine built me. I bought all of those deck hanger things, had the boys at Home Depot rip down pressure treated 2X6X12s in half and I even bought the proper deck hanger nails. What a job trying to figure out the angle and what to saw off the planks, at what pitch. I managed to get two hung, with the third hanger nailed in place, but not before needing to rest. All that thinking, stumbling about with the wood in hand to saw them off, and having to retighten the big nut on my Skilsaw wore me out. I bought a new blade for the saw, but I think it (the saw) got worn out during the shed building, and it's now making this horrific grinding noise while it spins. I am having to retighten the centre bolt after each sawcut. I really don't know how guys can do this construction thing. It took me two hours to cut two pieces of wood! The sound of the Skilsaw really frightens me - it is intimidating. I have to admit though, so far it doesn't look all that bad. I even had to rip down a 2X6X12 into an 8' length for a header onto which I nailed the deck hangers. Ahhh - those deck hangers. What a job setting the height of the 2X6s into them - I have to allow for the plywood that goes on top, so that I don't get a ridge where the shed floor meets the ramp. Don't want a speed bump for heaven's sake! I am so wiped from stumbling about in my prosthetic. Anyhow, I will trudge through it - eventually reaching the finish.

Today I did my good deed - I witnessed this kid walking on the sidewalk, throw down a piece of garbage. I yelled at him through my open truck window to "Pick up your garbage!" And he DID! I didn't even get the proverbial f***k off! One of the few unspoiled adolescents left in this world...

June 19 , 2008.

Had a great weekend at a poker run. My daughter took 1st place with three Jacks, winning $500, and I took 3rd place, with two pairs, winning $100. So, we had agreed that any winnings were to be split evenly, hence, I went home with $300. My daughter also took 1st place door prize, a beautiful Coors Light cooler on wheels, with travel handle. Hope to have pics (what few I have) up and posted on Rally Alley page soon. Bear with me guys - I am doing a ton of work on the site, and it takes time. Ghost Town page is also well under construction.

June 11 , 2008.

Well, yesterday started with a Bang! I let my Gypsy (no relation) out for her morning routine and a bomb went off right under my open kitchen window. She had cornered a black & white friend in the corner nook outside the kitchen window, and got nailed right in the mouth. Well, I had no choice but to let her in the back door, grab her, put her collar on and attach her outside the front door, in order fo the skunk to escape the back yard - it is completely fenced in. So, there I was, in good ol' Wal-Mart, at 7:30, buying up the place, arming myself with cleansers, baking soda, peroxide, you name it. Meanwhile, I smelled as though I had been the one sprayed. How embarrassing! By the time I had arrived home, my poor dog had puked lall over the place and my whole yard and inside the house was rank with the smell.

To add insult to injury, as I began washing her down with a solution of peroxide and baking soda, a huge black cloud came over top of the house and unleashed the wildest thunderstorm, within seconds. There I was, with no garden hose for help, washing my dog with teatrea shampoo, Outrageous shampoo, baking soda/peroxide, all in the pouring rain and lightning. The neighbours must have thought I was nuts! I actually was laughing, because I'm sure they thought I was using the rain water to rinse my dog.

Anyway, Gypsy was banned from the bedroom, and anywhere else there is carpet. She was quite insulted she spent the night on the linoleum kitchen floor. I reasoned it away to her that if she were to belong to anyone else, she would be spending the night out in the doghouse...

June 9 , 2008.

Some days I feel like I'm just destined to live a lonely life.

June 7 , 2008.

May 17, 2008.

People are in such a rush all the time. I used to be just like them. And I can't help but think I wasted so much time rushing, and I was so stressed, and I wonder if that's what made me sick. Cars cutting me off, just to turn off ahead; passing me to gain one car's length, pedestrians running out in front of me. My God, people are just like ants - rushing around in their own little world, oblivious to the big footprint about to get them. It is really disturbing to watch, now that I am more aware. I have learned to take it easy, not fret so much about things. If I'm late, what's the worst thing that could happen? That I avoided an accident? Okay, the guy in the parking lot last week didn't avoid me, that's for sure. You see, he was in a rush too - so much so, that he forgot to check his blind spot while backing out. What really gets me, is that he didn't even do the honourable thing and step up to pay. Is this the sad state of affairs the world is in? I hate to seem like a big black cloud about to rain on peoples' lawn sales, but really, things look bleak.

May 16, 2008.

I was informed that it isn't the tranny, it is in fact engine compression difficulties that would most likely cause Old Girl to roll. Who'd-a-thunkit? Learnin' all the time...

May 13, 2008.

The freakiest thing happened to me today. It seems, there is always some form of excitement around me. Many good things also happened to me today, which I can't go into here until the article gets published. However, onto the freaky thing. After running errands (on the bike, of course), I decided to go for a run down to the park and grab a coffee, maybe trade some riding stories. The incline out of the french-fry stand is quite steep, so, as a precautionary move (technically, one shouldn't need to do this) I cranked my front end completely against its stop so that in the event the bike should roll, it would just roll into the bushes behind me, and not into the parked car directly behind me. Don't forget my bike has the sidecar attached, so I don't use the sidestand. Because the bike is pretty much upright, the sidestand would be inneffective as a "catch brake" anyway.

Well, I climbed off Old Girl, and as I was fishin' for my coffee money, the freakin' thing proceeded to roll backwards - then catch - then roll - then catch! I completely forgot about my prosthetic, flew around to the left side of the bike (I had been behind the trunk of the sidecar fishing for the money) jumped on and depressed the brake. Instinctively I flicked the gearshift to ensure the bike was, in fact, in gear - which it was - and still rolling. Holy s@&%t! I began hauling on the handlebars, rattling the hell out of my bike to see if it would still roll, and yep, there she was, in gear, and rolling, ever so slightly. So, I'm assuming I will be needing some tranny work, hopefully not for awhile, but at some point. So another lesson for you boys and girls out there - always take precautions! It might save you from an incident. A little forethought went a long way today - and so did my left-it-in-gear-bike! Guess I'll need to start haulin' a couple of bricks around from now on.

May 9, 2008.

7:00 a.m.

The saga continues. Is there a force out there that just waits until things go right, to then step in and make them go wrong? An idiot backed into me in the parking lot yesterday. Bashed in my left front fender, I am crawling over to the passenger side to get in and out. This really sucks. He was arrogant too, especially when I decided to telephone the cops. Not that they could really do anything - it happened in a parking lot, and I knew this. But the man was adamant about not remaining at the scene, and I became suspicious he had been drinking. Turns out not, however, I am now suspcious of his insurance coverage. He was unable to produce his policy number, from what I recall amidst all the excitement. I guess it's another bad pill I will need to swallow, for I do not have collision coverage on my vehicle, due to the sky-high rates I am now paying due to that at-fault accident that really wasn't my fault, which I had in Quebec last year. (Yes that was a run-on sentence - I'm allowed those once in awhile - there is no editor here at Roadgypsy.com.) One positive thing that came of it though - the constable that responded was actually sympathetic to the human condition, was cute, and smelled nice. Probably is married and has eight kids or something...

May 3, 2008.

Gotta tell ya - just realized I have links that are not linked, photos that disappeared, well, any of you computer buffs will know what that's like. So bear with me, I need to go hunting to find all of the stuff and re-upload it. I spent a considerable amount of time on my photo gallery, thought I was making progress, and now this. For all I've gained, I lost a bunch of stuff too. Goes with the territory, I guess.

While I'm here, I am going to mention something that has been bugging me for quite sometime - and I warn you - there will be persons out there that I'm sure will take offense to my following musings, well, factual experience actually. I am about to tell you a "politically incorrect" story - then again, I was never one to follow the status quo anyway.

I've been noticing these days, the tremendous amount of "pink ribbon" campaigns out there. I'm waiting for the big pink dildoe to be next on the market. I actually see it as such a joke, to the point it is burning my ass and it isn't funny anymore. A few days ago, it was announced that the Princess Margaret Hospital Lottery generated over $70 000 000. Correct me if I heard that incorrectly on the TV. Should be close, for, according to their website, the 2006 year generated over $65 000 000. That's million for you numerical illiterates.

My story is this: when I became ill late 2006, I needed to rely on my investments which I had placed after buying a home with my then-partner in Quebec, in order to survive. We had a large mortgage payment (over $800/month) plus living expenses. Together, we split the costs. Now remember, we began this life together before I ever new I had a problem. So, mega-visits to the hospital in Quebec City (over one hour away from our home), doctors, specialists, rehab appointments, food while at the hospital, on and on and on, this all costs money in addition to, our living expenses. My partner certainly helped out there, for after my surgery, my meds, etc, money was quickly running out. (It's amazing just how fast the money goes when you're not working, and need to keep paying living expenses - add to that the health problem thing.) So, I had no choice but to keep breaking up investments until nothing was left, in order to live. (Okay okay, I'm getting to the point soon...)

We were told by the nurses to hand in all of our hospital receipts and medical expenses to the CLSC of Quebec, and apply for assistance. They would reimburse our expenses during that time. So, we handed over all of our receipts, even had a nurse come to the house, fill out all the necessary applications, explain to us what receipts were acceptable, etc. Well, off she went, and we never heard from her again. After many, many follow ups, and six months later, we were informed they would not cover any of the expenses, and that we needed to go to the Canadian Cancer Society. It took us quite some time to get our stuff back, some of which was missing. When we did, off we went to the Canadian Cancer Society. We were politely informed, that it was too late to hand in our receipts. We explained that the CLSC of Quebec held up the process, and then told us to go to the Cancer Society. Apparently, that didn't matter one iota to the Canadian Cancer Society.

Directly on their website they state transportation support, helping you get to your centres and treatments, etc. Do you know how much my receipts amounted to? Close to $500. For me, that was a lot of money. For them, a drop in the bucket. I was shocked at the lack of support. Oh they offer support all right - support that doesn't cost them too much. It's easy to provide phone numbers of government agencies. Hell, I could do that for myself. After all the years of donating to the Cancer Society on the behalf of my business, and with all the Pink Ribbon campains, Daffodil campaign blah blah blah, they couldn't even offer a portion of my expenses - because I was too long in handing in my receipts. Too long? That money was long gone out of my bank account. I certainly felt it, even though it was six months later. Do people not see this? Do they not see the Wheel of Cancer-$$$ ?

Fighting cancer. The search for a cure. Yeah fuckin' right. Sorry about the language, but the smoke is starting to rise. Why would they even want to find a cure? With all the dough people are raking in with all their campaigns, finding a cure would put an end to the money wheel. I think the money should go to the patients - for gas, family travel expenses, in-home assistive devices and meds. We already know we need to get the daily 5-10 vegetables into us.

May 1, 2008.

Happy birthday to me! Great day, all I can say...

April 25, 2008.

Never thought I'd be saying this: rain, at last! Things are so dry we can't burn our tidy-up remnants because there is a fire ban. Even with all the snow we had this past winter, things are tinder-dry. The showers we had today did nothing to really help the situation either. We need a 3-day soaking to restore a safe burning zone.

Last night I went to the coffeehouse and managed a 2-song spot at the end of the night. Haven't been singing anywhere lately, so I truly enjoyed getting out.

Well, we managed to get the hole dug out for my shed-building party. Holy, it doesn't look like much, for all the work it took, but when you count all the rocks and garbage - yep - you guessed it - garbage that was buried, exactly where the shed will be built, it's a wonder we even got as far as we did. We unearthed bed frames, concrete blocks, planks of pressure-treated lumber, bones (yep), a Jesus figurine, (wondered what sort of burial took place), various items of garbage like shingle pieces, plastic coffee cups/lids, nails, chunks of plastic - debris that was buried. Add to that a pile of rocks too. My ol' leg was demo'd after, I was out of commision for a couple of days. The nearly tipping over with the wheelbarrow load pretty much was the signal to stop, much to the mortified expression on my friends' onlooking faces.

A huge THANK YOU, guys!

April 24 , 2008.

All this week on our local television station they're featuring areas of severe dumping of garbage in Simcoe County. Everywhere there is garbage, and some people are unabashedly dumping large items right beside the road. I hate to admit it, but I think the government is really part of the problem. Let's face it: people are dumping simply because they don't want to pay. Large items are no longer picked up curbside; any more than one bag of garbage, and we are having to pay for extra bag tags - this already in addition to the garbage taxes we're charged on our property tax bills. Don't get me wrong - I hate dumpers, but I see why it's being done. I don't like to compare apples to oranges, however, but when I lived in Quebec, there was one distinction between Ontario and Quebec: you didn't see junk piled all around the homes, and you didn't see garbage all over the roadsides or in the bush. Everything is collected on garbage day, sorted at a depot, and resold. If you need one foot of trim, you can go and buy one foot of used trim. Used sofas? They are sewn, repaired, and resold. The properties and grounds in that province are CLEAN. Possibly there is a lesson to be learned from there. And NO, I am not pro-Quebec. This is merely an observation.

April 18 , 2008.

Alrighty now - I'm not freakin' French! Just because I lived (a horrific year, I might add) in Quebec last year, does not mean I am French. No offense to all you Frenchies out there. Don't send me a bunch of discrimination hate mail, please. Save the bullshit for the rodeo.

April 17 , 2008.

Riding season is finally upon us; and I am, finally, officially, completely, Ontarian once again. My bike is plated and insured, and I've been enjoying the last couple of days, albeit dusty as they were, riding the highways of Simcoe. Lots of bikes, lots of idiots that still don't notice them.

My endurance seems better this season; not much wonder, I was riding barely out of surgery IV (intravenous) last year. Manitoulin might not seem a dream away after all - okay, maybe Idaho, or Yukon or Newfoundland is, but that could be a goal to work toward. Thought about a possibility - renting a trike. Was chatting with a fella in the Home Depot parking lot, and his tale of renting bikes and touring turned the lightbulb on. Now, to find a suitable Harley trike, that I would be able to shift gears on...

Ahh, just enjoying the mornings in my Muskoka chair, with my Gypsy (dog - and no relation) and coffee - I realized how precious life is. One really needs to take the time and smell the spring. Last year this time I was in a wheelchair. My, how far I've come. I did a stupid thing yesterday - I never switched the channel when, on Sex and the City, Samantha is diagnosed with breast cancer. Usually, I turn the channel whenever any commercials come on, or any programs related to the 'C' word. It's just negativity, in my opinion. Well, I tortured myself and watched the whole episode, and it even showed Samantha shaving her head because she was beginning to lose her hair. And there I was - reliving the same thing, all over in my head. Although I never thought it would bother me as much as it actually did, to lose one's hair, is really quite devastating. When I shaved it off, which was necessary by the way, because you can't stand the sensation on your scalp when it's falling out, I just cried during the whole ordeal. Okay, onto the next topic.

Why do men find it necessary to hork and spit onto the ground out in public? It really is disgusting, especially in front of a coffee shop window. Although I did find myself in a horking contest a time or two in my adolescent lifetime, there is a time and place for that sort of thing. So, on that note, save that sort of business, all you Romeos out there, for the privacy of your own yard. Please - it really shines a disgusting light on you! You won't be impressing the ladies with it, that's for sure.

Happy Harley Days!

April 7 , 2008.

Well, this weekend I just proved to myself another reason why I shouldn't open forwards. I received a FW about needles being infected with HIV positive blood, that are supposedly being taped underneath gas pump handles. Apparently people would grab the nozzle to fill up their vehicle, stick themselves and now there's a very large number of people in Simcoe that have since tested positive.

So, I never open FWs, but this one I decided to because of the nature of the subject. I was very concerned, like any other person would be that is not aware it's a hoax. So, I did what I rarely, if never do: I forwarded the message to people I figure commuted to work, or rode a bike and filled their tanks frequently. I also went so far as to protect identities by erasing the addresses of the other people to which the original forward had been sent. (I am not savvy when it comes to FWs, cc, Bcc - I only know how to maintain this site) What happened next planted my against-FWs conviction firmly in the ground.

I received replies from almost all of the recipients that it was a hoax, it's been around for quite sometime, and they sent me a link to a site that verifies hoaxes, whatever. So, with great embarrassment, I've pasted the link to the site y'all sent me to verify such things. Here is the link, and I WILL not, ever, FW another e-mail. Done. Gas Pump Hoax

Onto another topic. I just discovered another hazard of having a prosthetic leg - shopping-cart-pushing. I was in Wal Mart (no, I don't spend all of my time at Wal Mart - I needed to pick up toiletries), happily pushing my shopping cart, when, WHAM! I stumbled and almost knocked my teeth out of my head on the cart handle. My left foot had stepped onto the left wheel of the cart, and, naturally, as I rolled along, it rolled my leg out from under me. With no sensation, I didn't even realize that during my step forward, my left leg (the fake one) stepped onto the shopping cart wheel. Wow. People of course thought I was spastic idiot.

Yet again, I spied a vehicle, and nice fancy one at that, parked in a handicap parking space, no permit at all in the window. It was parked in front of an art store, which is right beside a drive test centre. It sat there most of the day, I never had a chance to spy who the culprit was. I need to get a job in that field. I'd be good at it.

Well, plans are underway for my Shed Building Party. It's slated for two days, Saturday, May 31 and Sunday June 1, 2008. I still need some back up labourers. The link and info is repeated here:

Copied f rom March 16:

Ok - I'm recruiting some strapping lads for a shed-building party at the end of May. If interested, e-mail me. The pay is bad, as in 0$. But, there could be some beer and food in it for you. You'd be building a shed to house a Harley with sidecar. (Hmmm, I wonder whose that would be?) I would provide the material, you would provide the time, gratis (that's free, in French, for those that do not know).This would most likely take place in late May, and you would need to bring your body, knowledge, strength, hammer, drill, saw, and whatever else it takes to construct a shed that's 10X10.8 feet. You will need to work well in a group, and take instruction from a female (other than your wife). If you wish to bring a friend or spouse to be gopher, that's fine, but I would discourage children, I have a shepherd that is getting more ornery each year.

Link:

Shed Building Party

 

March 31, 2008.

March came in like a lamb, and she's going out like a lion. It's raining, which is a good thing - it'll help knock some of the snow. Nothing much to report, other than I've been in a great deal of pain with my leg - the sawed-off bone is hurting everytime I put my prosthetic on. This makes it extremely difficult to walk. I am no where near the cardiovascular exercise I was doing with my first prosthetic.This is really starting to piss me off.

March 23, 2008.

Happy Easter! Did everyone put all their eggs in one basket? The sun shone bright, but it was deceiving - the temperature was positively COLD! I'm sure the Easter Bunny froze his own eggs off.

I can't get over how many people unabashedly use the handicap parking spaces. I watch them looking around to see if anyone is watching! And boy they don't like to be confronted. It's as though I am the law-breaker. I would love to hold the ticketer's job - I would not be ashamed to ask each person who uses the space for their I.D. to verify their use of the space. I even leave the space for someone who may need it more than me, when my prosthetic is fitting well, and I'm able to walk less slowly and without pain. Those permits are issued to the person - not the vehicle. People have no shame let me tell ya, and that really pisses me off. I would be the first to invent "handicap parking rage".

March 16, 2008.

Spring is in the air! And I've kept ahead of the doggy-do bits too! Want a great tip? Don't discard the dog food bags. They make great dog-do containers. Some are foil-lined, some plastic.They are strong and pretty much leak free, unless you put a hole in the bag or something by accident.

Well, I meant to update you folks on the Baljinder Badesha case. Remember? He was the dude that contested the Ontario helmet law because he said in went against his religion. He lost. But apparently he's taking it to Supreme, where I'm sure they'll kiss ass, because they will look at the other two cases in the other provinces, can't remember which provinces though. But I'm sure we will not be exempt. the other provinces set a precedent, unfortunately. It wouldn't burn me so much if we would all be exempt from the law. But, alas, we do not wear turbans.

Ok - I'm recruiting some strapping lads for a shed-building party at the end of May. If interested, e-mail me. The pay is bad, as in 0$. But, there could be some beer and food in it for you. You'd be building a shed to house a Harley with sidecar. (Hmmm, I wonder whose that would be?) I would provide the material, you would provide the time, gratis (that's free, in French, for those that do not know).This would most likely take place in late May, and you would need to bring your body, knowledge, strength, hammer, drill, saw, and whatever else it takes to construct a shed that's 10X10.8 feet. You will need to work well in a group, and take instruction from a female (other than your wife). If I could do it alone, believe me, I would. I did build a deck to a pool, alone. Okay, it wasn't perfect, but it had 16 inch centres! And the only reason it was out of level is because I had to take it out of level, because the pool was out of level, and if I left the deck level, I would be unable to open the pool gate. So, not my fault. But conditions are such that, I am unable now, so, hence the reason for the shed building party. If you wish to bring a friend or spouse to be gopher, that's fine, but I would discourage children, I have a shepherd that is getting more ornery each year.

E-mail me at: Shed Building Party

March 13, 2008.

It was a year ago today that I had my chemotherapy treatment. Can't go on about it too much here, other than it was the most terrifying experience I've ever had, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Still suffering the effects of it, one year later.

I'm thinking about going somewhere. LOL LOL LOL. That was too funny, what I just entered. I'm ALWAYS thinking about going somewhere! I actually videotaped the Newfoundland and Yukon commercials that are aired on OLN (Outdoor Life Network). That's just crazy. Each time I see the Yukon ad, I start crying. And I can't put my finger on it - am I crying because I can't do it again, expecially with the sidecar? Or crying from the rush I get watching it, knowing I've been there. Strange familiarity comes over me when I watch it. Bizarre.

I don't know how I ever managed seven months in a wheelchair. When I began house hunting here in Ontario, I lived with mom and dad for a few months. And my mother noted that I was always on the move. Even when I had time, it was spent driving. Driving to Tim Hortons. Driving to the mall. Driving and dropping in on people. She then understood my need to travel. My father and I are very similar - we both love to learn, and his nose is always in a book, or studying a map of some sort. You should see my map collection. I will read a map whilst sitting on the toilet; whilst getting ready to sleep; whilst watching TV. I have globes all over the place. It's almost a sickness, the need to always be on the move. Last summer I was doing good to get 1000 km in on the bike for the entire season. This year, if I had the right bike I would be gone - minimum three weeks. I'm starting to think about towing the bike on a trailer to Newfoundland and unloading it. (Shhh - I've never trailered in 26 years).

 

March 9, 2008.

I've finally just been able to provide visitors updated access to this page, due to technical difficluties with my Scratchings page. "Technical" being, I lost my working page, which meant I was unable to give you guys access to updates until the problem was solved. So I solved it, by putting up a temp Scratchings page.

I haven't had bike fever this bad in a few years. Maybe it's a classic case of wanting what you can't have. Well, we're digging out again. I remember having winters like this when I was a kid. My poor leg (the fake one) can't take this anymore. I've been procrastinating about going out to clear the snow. I have a snowblower, but with the ice and the weight of the thing, it is a huge challenge for me to run it and move the snow from my drive. I'm hoping someone will clear me out before I get there.

What constitutes attraction? I look around and see men at the gym, and I wonder why people are attracted to some and not others. Recently I was attracted to a man simply because I saw the muscles in his forearms strain when he did his chin-ups. I think back to when I had been attracted to some men that were, well, simply put, ugly. But they oozed charisma, and their pheromones floated around my head terribly. Since my Quebec fiasco I've learned a few things - mostly about myself. I am definitely turned off by men who don't look after themselves - men who don't take pride in their appearance and men who don't make some sort of effort to stay in shape. Everybody gains weight at some point in their life, through illness or medications, whatever. But a man that sincerely puts forth an effort to maintain a healthy weight or combat their weight gain is a turn on. That's it. I had the unfortunate experience, only with a man, of the syndrome most men experience after a few years of being married to their wife - she quits looking after herself, gets fat and starts wearing track pants in public. In my case, there was no track pant, but Harley regalia - which is okay, depending on where you go. An intimate dinner is not exactly the place to wear dirty, forehead-oiled bandanas and washed out Harley T-shirts. What happened to the nice dress-shirt? Classic bait-and-switch.

 

February 26 , 2008.

Now, which would I prefer - a prosthetic foot that's adjustable at the ankle to accomodate high heels, or a Volkswagen trike, the Runabout? Can't afford either.

Frustrated today. I have to wear flat shoes and boots everywhere, and I get sick of listening to high-heeled clicking in the stores. I look like a freakin' old person with my cane; I feel less than sexy let me tell ya. When I go to the Y for training, I squeak everytime a take a step. There is no cover on my prosthetic; if I wear long pants, people gawk and wonder what the noise is. If I wear capris or shorts, at least they can tell what the squeak is. Then I just laugh because what else can one do, and I tell them my little birdie is following me around everywhere I walk. The squeak sounds like a chickadee. My prosthetic needs adjustment, and the left side is shorter, so I walk crooked, with a limp and both hips are aching horribly. I am trying to be thankful for just being alive, but once in awhile the gravity of it all creeps into my brain.

I have bike fever. I haven't felt it for a long time. Everytime I see the TV commercials for Yukon, I think back to when I rode there on my bike. I love that place. I so want to go back again. but I know I can't do it with the sidecar. There is something truly magical about the north. Some days I get this crazy idea to jump in a truck and trailer my freakin' bike there then unload it. Where once I would consider trailering sacrilege, I'm beginning to re-evaluate my options. Sometimes I think of just calling a bunch of guys up and seeing if they want to go. Crazy eh? But things look different to me than they did before all of this happened. Life appears startlingly short. I panic sometimes and I want to do everything I can - want to jump on a plane and go to Italy and drink wine and dip bread into flavoured olive oil all day. I want to hire an instructor at the ski hill for an hour and try, just try, to snowboard. I know how, but I want to try it now, with my prosthetic. I need to know I can still do it. I just need someone there to pick me up when I fall. Cause I know I might fall. And I would have difficulty getting back up. I saw an amputee skiing at the Collingwood games. Man, the guy so inspired me.

Anyway, it's time to quit crying in my tea.

 

February 23 , 2008.

Once I started to feel better last night and not until late last night, I decided to try and find a song I'd heard many times over the airwaves, and always wanted to try and learn it on the piano. So All I knew were parts of the lyrics, but fortunately, found it.

And whew! The guy who wrote it - is he ever HOT! I would love to write music with that dude... Okay - you're all wonderin' "What song is it?" Here it is folks: Bad Day by Daniel Powter. Couldn't imagine a bad day if it started with that guy...here's the link to the song: Bad Day Clicking on the song title should get you there. While you're there, ladies (maybe some of you guys too, I don't know) check out that guy's face. Wow! Very handsome. The guy's mother was a piano player too. Very cool.

February 22 , 2008.

Well, decided to celebrate last night, my re-newed Ontario residency - with ordered-in pizza, wings, breadsticks. I washed it down with the left over pink champagne from when I celebrated my new beginning, after the deal closed on my little house. I woke up in the middle of the night sicker than a dog, headache, and all the pizza (ate 3/4 of the large Brooklyn pepperoni) just sat in the ol' gut all night. I'm still gettin' over the assault on my poor body.

February 21 , 2008.

Yeah! I'm officially Ontarian again! got back my Ontario plates. Hooray. Now just to find a doctor...

February 20 , 2008.

Well, finally settled into the new place. Finally got my Ontario driver's license back. Finally got my OHIP card back. Finally got my passport back. But still haven't dug my way out of my insurance rates - the ones that skyrocketed due to my "at fault" accident which really wasn't my fault - over in Quebec. SURE am glad to be back in Ontario. Okay, we're regulated to the a---hole, but at least we're regulated to the a--hole in English.

Did y'all know that they no longer accept non-government issue birth certificates when transferring a driver's license? Guess who found out - at the counter - after I had my emissions test and safety done? They (drive-test centre of Ontario) refused my birth certificate (a hospital birth certificate, which is all that I've ever had, from Connecticut USA) as ID. You'll never guess what I had to do? Had to apply to the State of Connecticut AND the City Clerk's office in Milford for a "government" issued birth record. (But they'll give a license back to someone after a 12-hour suspension.) Funny thing is, I applied for my passport with the same said hospital birth certificate, and never had problems. I also do all my travelling with same said birth certificate.

It's almost as though I turned criminal for moving to Quebec for a year and a half. Let me warn all you folks considering a transfer to another province: stay an Ontario resident, just be a cottager working a temp position in the other province. You'll save yourself a whole lot of headaches, and you'll do your part in screwing the govt., because, after all, their laws and regulations are certainly conducive to them getting screwed, including YOU.

Speaking of laws: I guess, just by the nature of the subject, I am forced to comment on the recent attempt by Baljinder Badesha to fight the helmet law here in Ontario. Peel Regional Police pulled the guy over for not wearing his helmet, which he explained discriminated against his religious beliefs. He explained that removing his turban to fit his helmet to his head was descriminatory.

As you could well imagine, the smoke streaming from my two ears set off the smoke alarm in my place. I was FURIOUS! I am watching the outcome of this story closely, for if this guy wins the case, there most surely will be some sort of revolt against the Ontario Government, from the biker community. If not, I'll be very surprised (and possibly disappointed). Have we not fought for years, without success, for the freedom/right to choose whether or not to wear a helmet? Same goes for wearing seatbelts, and other laws. That society must pick up the tab across the OHIP board for injuries sustained to the head of a motorcyclist that chose not to wear a helmet is NOT the issue here that burns my ass; considering that happens to constitute part of the helmet law argument from non-bikers.

What burns me is that if the guy wins the case, then what flies next? I mean, they're already exempt from wearing the traditional uniform of the Mounted Police, a classic Canadian symbol. Religious knives are allowed on their person in schools. The list is growing, and soon, if we don't watch out, Canada will no longer be Canada - it will only be known as a sieve through which all visitors may pass and become citizens of their own country, abiding by their own laws, and practising their own religious beliefs, residing on a piece of foreign take-over (Canada). Bikers beware - rest assured, you'll be pulling up alongside your Sikh brothers, wearing their own uniform, proudly displaying their own weapons attached at their waist. Put away your switchblades boys - they're no competition against the competition. And besides, leather is no longer in fashion, is it now, fellow motorcyclists?

 

January 27, 2008.

I repeat, "Okay, Okay, enough already! Yep, it's been a long stretch since the last entry! But I'm here now, aren't I?"

Well, the 12-hour drive, amputation, chemo and car accident, as well as a host of other "technicalities" there in Quebec proved to be too much for my censory perception. So, I moved back to Ontario. Having said that, I shall leave y'all as my sea of boxes await...

November 29 , 2007.

Okay, Okay, enough already! Yep, it's been a long stretch since the last entry! But I'm here now, aren't I?

Well, I've had a couple of visits to Ontario since the last entry. Enjoyed time spent with friends and family, you know the usual "un-boring" stuff! It's a long, ol' 12-hour drive from here in Quebec to where my parents live. I usually need to pull over for a snooze around the half-way mark, which is usually at the Quebec/Ontario border. (Would ya look at that - I called it "border". At times it really does feel as though Quebec is a different country from the rest of Canada.) Hope to get home for Christmas too.

I have started back at my music again. Been doin' some writing, and have decided to get a little gig together with a musician friend. Get back to my roots - which is definitely music.

My hair is really coming in now, after losing it all from chemo. It's so curly, I look like "a Gin-o from Toron-to"! (That's said with an exaggerated 'O', accent on 'O'.) Now, I don't want a bunch of complaints that I'm slammin' Italians; I love Italians - it's just that my hair is very dark and extremely curly at the moment - I look Italian. It takes an hour to dry and flat iron it out - then it's the Joan Jett '80s look. Any way one looks at it, it sure beats bald! (Now, don't you baldies get offended either - bald on men is far more becoming than on women, and besides, Dr. Phil is hero in our house...

Finally put the bike away. Went for a nice fall ride through the Appalachian countryside here. We now have a small snowbank. Set between two mountains, we have what they call "mountain weather", and what I call "the 10 o'clock cloud roll-in". Never fails: right around 10:00 a.m., the clouds start rollin' in. It could be the clearest, bluest sky you wake up to, but it clouds over each day at 10:00 a.m. So, I quickly learned that if I want to get any riding in before it rains, one has to get on it quick before ten.

Not much to tell you, other than I am still in my old prosthetic. Skipped number two, it was so large by the time I returned from Ontario, couldn't even fill it enough to make it fit. My residual limb has shrunk a lot. so tomorrow, blisters and all, I will go for adjustments to a new socket and liner - a totally differentl system. There are no strings, wool "sock"s and such with this one. The system combines a gelatin sleeve that has a built-in bolt with a socket that has a hole in the bottom into which the sleeve ratchets. One push of a release button and the prosthetic is off - could be a dream if the adjustments are well fitted. I am trying not to get too excited after all of the disappointments thus far. The prosthetic promises more comfort and motion at the knee. Currently, I need to put thick surgical gauze over and behind my knee to keep the inside liner from blistering the skin any more than it already is. Painful let me tell ya. Certainly limits one's movements...

Well, not much more to report. Will try to touch base sooner next time. Oh - as much as I have enjoyed some of the jokes and such, I have stopped opening all attachments and those e-mails from visitors that do not have a subject in the subject line. I have a ton of spam and crap coming through, so apologies to those whose e-mails are deleted without being read. Anything that even remotely looks suspicious is deleted. Until later Dudes and Dudettes,

Roadgypsy.

 

September 29 , 2007.

Well, that little accident I had before my fishing trip ended up costing over $14 000 to repair.

I had a wonderful trip back home, Ontario, but combined it with a lot of work. Have many articles to write, hence the reason I haven't updated this diary 'til now.

Had a surprise the other night - received a phone call from the local camera club. I had entered a photo contest with one of my rodeo shots from St. Victor. I was one of the 30 finalists and was invited to the presentations. Didn't win, however I received a "coup du coeur" (apologize for my bad French), which apparently is equivalent to honourable mention. I was happy just with that.

Haven't ridden my bike for over two months now. Just lost the interest. However, at the invitation of a friend, I went to a Brothers of the Third Wheel trike-in down in Belwood. They were very welcoming, met a lot of interesting folks, and had a little fun - lost miserably in the clothesline event. Couldn't get a single towel pegged onto the line. Thniking about getting a trike. Need to figure out how to pay for it, but I've got my eye on a Trike Shop model, their Runabout, with VW engine.

Played some music with a friend, and ultimately we jammed a bit with the house band at Marina's Restaurant in Port McNicol. Had a great time. I miss my music and all you folks back home. The cogs are turnin' by Jesus - thinking of how I can come back to live in Ontario. It's expensive there! Cost of living is a lot lower here in Quebec than Ontario. The cost of a house, as well as the taxes, is half also. I am unable to work, still needing to remove my prosthesis daily. I need a new one, because my residual limb has shrunk so much my leg sits too deep inside the prosthetic and I'm having a lot of skin difficulties: rashes, blisters, infected follicles, pain, you name it. People just can't imagine what is involved with amputation and prosthetics. Until they see the whole process, they will never understand.

However,leg is coming along - no choice! I've been putting it to the test, trying to jog, and walking Gypsy, my dog (no relation) every day. There are days of discouragement however, don't get me wrong. There are moments of non-acceptance; depression. I feel marred, like I am damaged goods.

August 21, 2007.

Oh my God - again! My fishing trip began with quite a bang - literally. I was involved in a car accident Thursday night, August 16, the night before leaving for Northern Quebec. Never had an accident in my life. Did 'er up good though - did about $5000 damage to the front end of my truck. Had whiplash, didn't go to hospital, but went fishing anyway...tired of hospitals. Nothing that a few days on an inland lake, deep in the woods, can't cure...will post pics when I return from Ontario. Headin' to Ontari-ari-ari-o again, August 26.

August 16, 2007.

GONE FISHIN'!

August 14, 2007.

Oh my God - we had the wickedest thunderstorm here last night. It rolled in around 11:00 pm. I really went into a panic. The trees were bent over, the dogs were running all over the place - my Gypsy (no relation...) too came and took a spot beside the bed. She usually takes a storm in stride. The crackling thunder following intense lightning had me crawling down two sets of stairs on my ass to the office, in order to unplug my computer. It really hit me how vulnerable you are when you're missing a foot. Because it usually takes at least an hour of being wrapped before attempting to put on my prosthesis, I was unable to put it on during the storm. I sleep with my stump unwrapped, so putting on my prosthesis in a hurry is out of the question. All I could think of was, "What if this storm spins out a tornado? I'm up you-know-what-creek without a paddle." Well it was all over in a furious 15 minutes, thank God, 'cause I was shakin' in my jammies and not much consolation for my dog...

August 6, 2007.

Sorry for the delay folks, but I'v had a ton of writing assignments on the go lately, and along with my new found freedom (from learning how to walk with a prosthesis) came canning and making jam duties. Yep, it's a well kept secret that I can keep a house and do Haus-Frau kitchen duties - in addition to the biker chick thing. Don't like to admit to that, for fear that someone will one day want to make a good wife outta me - AGAIN. Been there, done that...

Once again, thanks for all the letters you have been sending - lots of tips from other amputees, bike mods and such. I will try and get the pics uploaded as soon as I get a free hour - actually more like two free hours. By the time I dump everything into the specific folders, then import them into my web program, save to the FTP folder then upload, it will be a minimum of two hours' time. People just don't realize how much time it takes just for one photo to be brought into these pages!

Between jars of jam and string bean pickles, I managed to get out to a couple of really cool events. The rodeo is making its rounds through Quebec, and I went to the Festivities Western at St- Victor de Beauce. Got some great shots and had an equally great time. It was smokin' HOT that day, and with my slightly- covered-with-hair bald head, I nearly fried - that's with a bandana on it. But people were very kind, we were all sitting on those tiered outdoor stadium benches, you know the wooden kind with all the splinters and people's toes in your ass. They helped pick me up each time I returned from the outdoor portables. Had difficulties climbing up to my spot with my prosthesis. My "residual limb" (stump) has reduced so much now that I need to don a ton of those nylon socks to take up the space in my socket. One day I actually had 21! In addition to making it difficult to bend my leg, it is hot on a hot day, together with the neoprene sheath that holds my leg on. As a result, I have had some skin problems, mainly blister-like bubbles, with no liquid inside, rashes, and scaly skin. I have only just been informed I need to change the socks EACH day, wash them in special prosthetic anti-bacterial soap, as well as the skin, socket and sleeve. That's more than my underwear... No, just kiddin'. Now before I go and get a bunch of letters from you guys about that last comment, it was a joke, okay? A JOKE!

I also went to stock car races last Saturday night. I love the mud that gets flying at those events. Next week I plan on going to the demolition derby, and asphalt races Friday. Will try to get pics. Following today's entry are some pics I took at the rodeo and Saturday night's races.

Construction has begun on my studio. I am very excited, I will finally have my creative space. It can't go up fast enough - I am sooo cramped in my basement office, I can't even get to my cutting table. (The cutting table is where I cut matting and photographs I have reproduced for sale - my photography.)

Stock Car Races, East Broughton, Quebec

 

 

Festivities Western Rodeo St-Victor de Beauce, Quebec

On again...

off again.

 

 

July 20, 2007.

I took a run into Maine this week, and took a flat on my sidecar wheel, approximately 10km outside of Jackman, Maine. I heard the freakin' thing go too - a loud pssssssssst and next thing I know I'm on the side of the road. So I rode her into Jackman as is - in first gear. Man, what a workout that was.The sweat was just pourin' off me and my triceps darn near melted right off. Now let me tell ya, there are no bike shops in Jackman. There are only men driving around in 4X4 pick-ups wearing red and black checkered flannel shirts and sporting good ol' fashioned Grizzly Adams beards. But don't let that deter ya - the people are super kind, so I found out. Just the fact they spoke English made me feel right at home. The tire shop dude kindly telephoned another guy who raced motocross.That dude (sporting same said beard) and his friend showed up with tools and took my rim off, took it back to his place and mounted a real authentic motocross tire - that was all he had, and I wasn't about to complain. Grinning, he explained, "It ain't legal ya know." My response? "I don't really give a fuck if it's legal or not. Just mount the fuckin' thing right on there so that I'm rollin' again." We had a chuckle. Well, super nice, only charged me $80 total - tire, labour, the 15 minute run one way out, back home and out again. Now, have ya ever run a motocross tire at 110km/hour? I had to put in my ear plugs, the howl was so loud. Louder than my straight pipes - no joke! Let me tell you, things are never boring around here...below are pics, and if you're ever in Jackman, Maine, don't forget to drop in at Moose River Tire and say Hi to Razor- tell him you heard he was a decent dude, from Roadgypsy. Can't forget Randy and Garrett at Long Pond Camps and Guide Service - they were very kind.

Very tall dudes... L-R: Garrett, Roadgypsy and Randy

 

Trouble outside Jackman, Maine

Check that tread!

 

July 9 , 2007.

"Liberating to need just crutches"? It certainly has been a long time since making an entry (but learning how to walk takes up a lot of my time). I am now walking around with a cane, and at times, unassisted. I've got it down to about 7 minutes, putting on my prosthesis. We all take things for granted; especially the simple things. Taking stairs takes twice as long now. My dog Gypsy (no relation) is very happy I have resumed walking her. Okay, just once. Could barely do the 20 minute goal I had set for myself, but I plan on increasing that by five each day.

I had a GREAT trip to Ontario! It had been too long. Friends and family welcomed me warmly, and it did wonders for my morale. Had a pleasant Canada Day catching up with the locals from where I used to live. Met with Gwen from Motorcycle Mojo, she graciously took me out for lunch. Had a tour of their new offices. Congratulations Motorcycle Mojo Magazine on a beautiful new work space - I'm jealous, as I am still writing out of a very cramped basement office! The next month should solve that - as the construction of my new studio should be complete.

Took a road trip with my daughter up the shores of Lake Huron - what a great place, that Ontario. Unfortunately, I was unable to do it on the bike - no endurance yet. Actually, as funky as the sidecar is, I'm thinking about returning to two wheels. Just need more practise on the prosthesis thing. But how would I flex the foot part? A flexible foot is EXPENSIVE, too! Just to get a manually adjustable foot (to enable me to change the angle to accommodate high heels/flat soles) is around $4000. For the physically active, it is even more $$. How do these guys do it when they snowboard? I am realizing just how limited my abilities are.

Went out with friends to see Jamie Williams (producer of my CD) play. Man, that guy sure is talented. I am inspired each time I watch. Makes me think to cut off my nails, pick up my guitar and start all over again...that's where I am - at the beginning again with everything!

June 3, 2007.

Yesterday I wore my prosthesis around the house and outside for a total of 6 hours!! Too long for now I know, but it was just so liberating to need just crutches I didn't want to take it off. My right hip gives me tremndous pain when I am not using the prosthesis, just my walker. I even did some gardening with the thing, but had difficulties bending down to plant and dig with a small spade. I needed a lot of "socks" (those panti-hose slips) which left my behind-the-knee spot very stiff and difficult to bend. How do people do this? I don't know. Anyway, feel a little more free with my prosthesis. Definitely faster getting around than using my four-footed walker. Today, I couldn't be bothered putting the damn thing on. Takes too long.

Mom and dad left yesterday to go back to Ontario. I need to get home for a visit. I am sure that will lift my spirits greatly.

June 1, 2007.

I decided I would make a cover-up for my prosthesis in swimsuit lycra to match a bikini I just bought yesterday with mom. I give up. No one has anything in the colours to match my suit, and it would just look rediculous anyway. If I want to walk around at the beach with my friends, I need my prosthesis. If I am on a towel, I need to take the fuckin' thing off. Then it's a riga-ramole to put it back on. I can just picture it now. I don't even feel like going out shopping anymore. Everyone stares at you like you're from outer space. The stores cater to two-footed people who are Twiggy-thin. Can't even get my wheel chair around the displays and product bins. To top it off, changerooms don't even have a bench or chair in them. How are seniors supposed to do this? I am sure they have dificulties trying on clothes!! I can't even fit my walker into the rooms nevermind a wheelchair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am furious!

May 30, 2007.

I finished my song yesterday, and boy is it a good one. Pretty much the original thoughts on my paper, very little editing. I love when that happens! Played it for my ergo therapist, Claudine, and she cried. An artist loves it when they have moved someone, when their music affects their audience like that. It helped a tiny bit with my depression. I wonder if everyone goes through this? The worst part is living with the fear - the fear of the "C" word.

My mom and dad arrived today from Ontario. They are just so supportive (and good parents should be) - my mom has this way of building my spirits up to feeling hopeful. I need to cling to some hope, because these days are quite dark.

May 29, 2007.

Still having a great bout of depression. Can't sleep, and just a feeling of hopelessness has overcome me. I realized after barely squeezing in 200km this past weekend on my bike, that my motorcycle life will never be the same. Although I modified my bike by moving my shifter to the right and adding a sidecar, it is exhausting to ride the thing. I don't enjoy the ride because the wind takes the sidecar, and it is just work. Originally without the sidecar, and before the amputation, my bike had been lowered to the max - resulting in very poor suspension - like next to nothing. The guys at Butt Buffer thank God gave me a comfortable seat, but I am just in dire need of a softer ride. The sidecar is set-up ok, but my endurance is gone. I get so tired easily, and now I am really frustrated. I have no desire to ride. I am told a trike would be better - but who has $30 000? I invested all of my hard earned savings into my bike with the purchase of the sidecar, and I have no endurance. This really sucks! Where did my 500-600km days go?

This is really hopeless. Last night I finally forced myself to my piano after writing down all of my depressing thoughts onto a sheet of paper, lying hoplessly in bed. I sat down at my piano with the paper full of words, and magically the music just "happened". I poured all of my emotions into a song. (I have my piano at the rehabilitation centre. In the fall I purchased an FP2 Roland 88 key portable. I just love the thing, but never have time to play anymore. So I took it to the centre and I have time in the evenings to play. I sleep at the centre through the week.) I just need to add another verse to the song, but the intro and everything just came like magic. It was a real relief to write. I started to feel hopeless about that too. It's been a long creative dry spell.

May 28, 2007.

After all the months of "false acceptance", I finally crashed down yesterday. This is difficult to write because I am still emotionally not doing so well. I received my prosthesis on the 24th, and all of a sudden it hit me: this is for life. There is no "sexy" with a stump. When it's bikini season, how do I wear one, with this ugly neoprene sleeve collecting all of my sweat underneath? Yep, it sounds petty, compared to what I went through two months ago, that it really is meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but the feeling is still real and legitimate. All I could do was cry and cry yesterday. How does one wear a beautiful summer sandal? Just to put the prosthesis on takes one hour. There are these little pantihose-like socks to put on my stump in the inside socket, then on the outside of the inside-socket. And the number varies from day to day, and hour to hour, depending on swelling of the stump and the temperature outside, etc. It's trial and error, on and off. It doesn't give me the incentive to go outside at all. Takes too long. I almost feel - well I do feel, like maybe my stump and walker are enough. Forget the prosthesis thing.

May 24, 2007.

Preparing to put prosthesis on, a special liner made from a soft, rubber-like foam is pulled over nylon "socks". Then the outer hard shell complete with rod and foot is slipped over. Rather, I slip my covered stump into it. The stump actually sits suspended with a soft foam "cake" sitting in the bottom of the soft inner liner. Contrary to what people think, it is not the stump that supports body weight - it is a shelf underneath your knee-cap. The prosthesis and liner were molded to my individual shape, molded to the cut off tibial bone - therefore it sits perfectly (when positioned correct) under my kneecap. The amount of knylon socks required depends upon many things:the temperature of the air; the humidity (humidity causes the stump to swell, requiring less socks to keep the stump from sitting too deeply in its socket); how long the stump has been wrapped in bandage, prior to the attemped application. By keeping the stump wrapped in an elastic bandage when not wearing the prosthesis, it keeps the stump smaller - hence easier to apply the prosthesis.

Slipping in

 

First walk

 

 

May 20, 2007.

 

For the task of making a mold for a prosthesis, there are several steps.A technician first slips a panyhose-type sock over my stump. Then the technician locates and marks, with a special marker, all the bones of my kneecap as well as the remaining tibial bone in my leg. This is a critical step, for the prosthesis mold will need to be shaped to accommodate those bones; otherwise, the prosthesis will not fit properly, thus resulting in a great deal of discomfort and skin abrasion.

Measurements are taken...

 

Special cast gauze is moistened, then wrapped around my stump. The technician then molds the material around my stump, with her fingers molding the material under my kneecap, and into the recesses of other bones. It is then slipped off, and from this, a prosthesis will be made. In my case, the prosthesis will be specially designed to accommodate my active lifestyle; it will not only be adjustable between the foot and knee, but also at the knee, for better flexion. The prosthesis made from this mold will be used for approximately one year. During that time, many adjustments will be made.

 

May 5, 2007.

This is called the "jobst" machine. It inflates to push all unwanted liquid back upwards, away from the stump. It helps to reduce the size of my stump, preparing it for the day they come to take a cast for a mold which will ultimately result in my prosthesis.

This also is a device which when inflated, supports my stump and helps relieve the pressure when putting - only - 50% of my body weight onto the stump.