The Strangeness Of Normal

Our Evac Alert has finally been lifted, and our main access road into town is once again open for business.

Which isn’t to say there aren’t still detours everywhere, and mud and debris from the floods and landslides, and broken bits of people’s livelihoods and possessions, to be sorted and scoured, but for the first time in well over two weeks we were able to leave our little island and see the state of things beyond our truncated horizon.

Apart from the lake still being about a meter above its usual level for this time of the year, and a few pools of water sporting the stubble after the corn harvest and an assortment of ducks that haven’t flown south, (those sorts of mass migrations have been breaking up for a few years now, so it’s no surprise really, that they’re still here) everything looked the same, looked like a normal early winter farmland landscape … on the surface.

If we lived in the Sumas Prairie, parts of which are still under significant amounts of water, our view would’ve been devastatingly different.

With the benefit of hindsight it was far too soon for my poor concussed brain to be exposed to the multiple onslaught of sensory information, movement, (driving) people, (we went shopping to re-stock our perishables) and noise. (created by all of the above)

However, the multitudinous events of the last five years or so, (and especially the last two) have irrevocably altered my world-view (yours too probably) as the calamities occurred closer and closer to home until this last one quite literally appeared on our doorstep.

And although everything appeared normal as while we drove the familiar roads, the strangeness I felt (apart from the concussion bits) was a sense of relief that the world (beyond the bridge that links us to the mainland) hadn’t collapsed, mixed with the knowledge that those afore mentioned calamities are still out there, still evolving, still challenging me to step through each day of my life with my eyes open.

Strange days indeed.

41 comments on “The Strangeness Of Normal

  1. quiall says:

    We are starting to realize that we have to reach a new definition of our normal. A bitter pill to swallow.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Ian Hutson says:

    England is sliding on its backside towards the gutter. Our politicians aren’t just incompetent, they’ve gone utterly insane. Roman Emperor stuff. So damned annoyed with everything that last night I dug out my Mothers’s old recipe book and looked up her Christmas Molotov Cocktail recipe. I really think I’ll be needing them very soon. The good news is that to get a decent stock of bottles I have to drink loads of bottled beer and wine, as quickly as I can… I seriously never thought I’d see the day when I made that kind of decision.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Glad it’s lifting for you, and you probably felt you had to restock, in case something ELSE happened (and maybe you really did).

    When we moved to California in 2018, the endless parade of sunny days that I loved was actually a drought! Now we’re getting fog in the morning and foggy whole days, and the natives say THAT’S normal. Parts of New Jersey where we came from have been under water.

    Breathe. Do what you can. Love your family and friends, even if we can’t help them or them us when help is needed everywhere.

    You’re still here.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Widdershins says:

      We always try to restock anything we go through as soon as it’s practical. πŸ˜€
      Love the sentiment in your last paragraph. πŸ™‚

      Like

      • One of the features of living in a retirement community with people ages about 63 to over 100, is that we are always losing about 10% every year, and, out of 350 total residents from independent living to skilled nursing, that means 35 people, many of whom you’ve come to know and appreciate, are gone every year. That’s a LOT.

        So we tend to be kind NOW – if we possibly can be (during the pandemic, the higher levels of care were not allowed visitors, and it was horrible for them).

        At least it removes me as a big part of the problem.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. you are stronger now then ever before!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Kate Duff says:

    You have made it through and that’s the main thing. I hope you are able to enjoy the run up to Christmas now Widds. Relax and save your strength for another day.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Suzanne says:

    I like the way you have moved through your difficult experiences and come out the other side wiser. These are very strange times. I’m inspired by your response to them.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Ellen Hawley says:

    Strange indeed. Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Yay for getting out and about again! Just take it easy. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  9. acflory says:

    I’m so glad you can get out and piece some part of normal back together again. As for the restocking…I think we’ve all come to realise just how fragile our global ‘just in time’ mindset is.
    It worked well when everything was ticking along nicely. It even worked well when parts of the world were not ticking along nicely, but when all the world is in crisis? Nope. That’s when you need your pantry stocked to the gills.
    I used to tsk tsk my Mother for always buying miles more staples than she could ever use. “This stuff will go off, Mum,” I said. But Mum had been through WW2 and the Hungarian Revolution. She ignored me. Now I find myself doing exactly what she used to do.
    Covid will end eventually, but climate change is going to hang over our heads for generations. No way am I ever going to run out of toilet paper again. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

    • Widdershins says:

      I’m just so glad Mrs Widds and I are in complete agreement about all of this. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to have a partner/spouse who wasn’t … well I can actually, having lived through the fallout of a mere political disagreement with an ex. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      • acflory says:

        Meh…I know exactly what you mean. I’m lucky the Offspring is even more paranoid than I am. I don’t think any relationship can survive if there is disagreement about core principles. 😦

        Liked by 1 person

        • Widdershins says:

          Heh, πŸ™‚ it’s tough enough with the superficial differences! πŸ˜€

          Liked by 1 person

          • acflory says:

            Yes! And sometimes the little ones niggle almost as much as the big one.

            Liked by 1 person

            • Widdershins says:

              Emegherd! That is so true! πŸ˜€ … when I was in OZ I was in a relationship with a woman from South America, and she told me about a saying they have in her country, ‘wanting pears from an elm tree’. Meaning, of course, that elm trees are wonderful beings, but no matter how hard we try we’re never going to get a pear from it. That has stood me in good stead in my relationships since then, when I’m not too caught up in my wanting of pears to see it that is. πŸ™‚ It also helped me decide that if I truly wanted more pears than elm leaves, then it was time to renegotiate the relationship. Also a hard lesson. πŸ™‚

              Liked by 1 person

              • acflory says:

                Oh I like that…I /really/ like that. I wish someone had said that to me thirty odd years ago. My ex isn’t a bad person by any means, but he was definitely an elm.
                I think half the trick is knowing what kind of fruit you really want. I knew I wanted someone who didn’t bore me. What I didn’t realise was that not being boring went hand in hand with ‘being driven’.
                It seems I have a secret penchant for ‘bad boyz’ rather than good boyz. πŸ˜‰

                Liked by 1 person

  10. I’m glad the alerts are over with and you can begin your days with a little less stress. Continue to rest your head and heal. This too shall pass.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. selizabryangmailcom says:

    Definitely feels like a snowball going downhill and gaining momentum. And not in a good way. πŸ™‚

    But on a happy note, did finish Last Dragon several weeks ago, and just wanna say: Charming, engaging, exciting, heart-warming, enraging, ultimately satisfying. Loved the characters. Beyond three-dimensional. Wished I’d been reading it right NOW, though, ’cause it’d fit in so well, the chilly snows and all the hot chocolate, with upcoming X-mas. But it was good back in September too. Thanks for telling that tale! πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • Widdershins says:

      What a wonderful bunch of things to say πŸ˜€ … thank you, and for your ‘P.S.’ too. πŸ˜€
      The second book has got a bit derailed with all these going’s in’s, but I’m slowly getting it out of the station once more. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

    • Widdershins says:

      P.S. How would you feel about me using your wonderful comment as a sort of ‘reader’s comment’ on my Last Dragon In London page here on my blog? If so, what name would you like me to use, and if not, it’s cool. πŸ™‚ … you can use the ‘contact me’ form on my ‘About me’ page if you want to remain anonymous … well anonymous-ish, because this comment thread is here for all to see, πŸ™‚ then again who reads the comments after a few more posts have been published.

      Liked by 1 person

  12. selizabryangmailcom says:

    Oh, and PS: How could I forget romantic as all get-out? *blush* πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

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