August 22 – Day 234

Fucking National Eat A Peach Day people

I mean, the pictures look amazing though

… almost as though

….you’d never know 

… that there were no ripe peaches to be had so I had to buy this hard as rock mother fucker just to hack it up then throw it in the garbage for this stupid blog, eh?

August 12 – Day 224

National Middle Child’s Day… a holiday of minimal importance.. much like the middle child

Very rarely does the middle child get to advance position after all birth giving has been completed for a family.
It’s virtually impossible to move up the ranks.

But alas, thanks to a little doctor negligence and a lot of choriocarcinoma, I was able to do just that, ladies and gentlemen.

Becoming the eldest child in the Turpin household has not been without strife, and lying in wait for 29 years didn’t equate a clean transition by any means, but here I am, now, on this National Middle Child’s Day sitting atop the Iron Throne of Birth Order.

Not only am I now the oldest child, I’m older than the previous eldest will ever be! So here’s to me!

August 11 – Day 223

National Play In The Sand Day

It was still smoggy and hazy in Vancouver, but warm and sunny so Duncan and I hit the beach – the Kitsilano Dog beach

I directed Duncan to play in the sand, but as well all know he is deaf

\

Close enough.

August 8 – Day 220

National Happiness Happens Day

I guess happiness does happen from time to time

Being home in Newfoundland’s terrible weather wasn’t conducive to happiness happening but being with my dogs and husband was joy filled, as you can tell

Nothing more I need than a Duncan nestled on my lap!

Celebrated by enjoying their company

August 1 – Day 213

213th day of celebrating every day literally really got me good

National Girlfriends Day !

I have THE BEST girlfriends

THE BEST, Jerry!

I like to think I celebrate and appreciate them everyday but for the sake of this initiative, I’ll reel it in to one day of celebrations.

I got to hang with three great girlfriends whom I’ve known and loved a long time!

Hadn’t seen miss Lori Beck in eons!
Hadn’t seen Jill since she became a mother !
Hillary brought some watermelon mimosa mix and so we lit it up…as much as people do in the middle of the day when they have evening plans and babies etc etc

 

Not featured in photo is all my other girlfriends who I love and admire – Steph! Christina! Kathleen! Molly! Carleigh! Allyson! Other Steph! Crystal! Titia! Lori! Brooke! …to name a few… the Vancouver gaggle !  Ah this is getting weird  – just know if you are my friend, and female, I probably like you the most !

 

July 28 – Day 209

National Milk Chocolate Day I was in transition from one side of the country to the other with my little Duncan in tow

My first flight was delayed a couple hours causing a domino effect on all my connectors making my trek home unnecessarily long and aggravating

Hey Air Canada – you guys definitely needs some sensitivity training to go down for your staff because y’all ridiculous when it comes to handling Emotional Support Animals.

Every leg of my (delayed) journey, I encountered a new, more ignorant Air Canada agent than the last, telling me a different, false, directive about Duncan.

Before I start, though,  shout out the hilarious customer service desk agent I approached when my first flight was delayed to try and sort out my new flights that I was most definitely going to miss.

“Oh planes can make up time in the air”
Two hours? Yes by.

Anyway, back to the ESA cluenlessness.

He’s not allowed on board without “Pet” on my boarding pass (nope- it says MEDA, that’s what he is; a medical aide), he’s not allowed to touch the ground/floors, must be carried (nope, he’s a medical aide so if he was a Retriever or Great Dane what would I you have me do?), he’s not allowed on the unoccupied seat next to me (wasn’t a problem the last leg of the trip), he must be in a kennel (again, not the case, the whole reason he is registered as an ESA is to circumvent the kennel), he has to have an official Emotional Support Animal vest on (was never told that first nor last from the Medical desk at Air Canada, who gave me the official list of directives which I followed to a T).

The last one is my favourite ‘attack’, because it was in the middle of Pearson airport and she had nothing to do with my voyage. She was literally pushing an old Sikh man gate to gate and felt compelled to stop in the middle of this much more important task, to harass me about my little, 18 pound, deaf Emotional Support French bulldog, walking along.

“He can’t be walking around like that, you have to put him in a kennel”
“No I don’t,” I say, and continue walking.
She doesn’t relent and has now turned the fucking wheel chair guy around so she can face me (or my back rather) and asks to see my boarding pass… which again is NONE of her business- this woman has a guy who has a flight to catch relying on her to bring him there, he’s in a god damn wheel chair.
I say I have MEDA on my boarding pass, not offering it to her because, as I’ve said a couple times now, it’s none of her god damn business
She accepts this, but goes on to lambaste me about how he needs and official vest if he is to be in the air port.
This is false.
I keep walking, rolling my eyes and floored she would take the time to pursue this dead end

Like just look at him, for fucks sake.

Anyway, managed to get my Milk Chocolate Lindt bar while lurking around waiting for my new standby flights to ‘celebrate’ National Milk Chocolate Day 


Almost the best part of my day, besides having Duncan on my lap and seeing my husband after months apart!!

Oh yeah, and seeing Herman’s grumpy face!!

 

 

Day 198 – July 17

Dear loyal readership,

You may notice from time to time that I get behind in blog posts.

It is not, as one may believe,  a result of the topic getting boring, or my being just entirely too busy, but rather my lag is often sparked by a holiday that I don’t want to talk about. A ‘sore’ spot, if you will.

When a holiday colludes with my anguish as a grieving sister, I just want to walk away.  I put off the blog post and leave it for days… or, as today’s post exemplifies,  weeks.

National Tattoo Day was one such day that caused a domino effect of late posts.

One of my first tattoos was by Lady Lo in St. John’s. This photo was taken by Sarah.

I had designed three nesting doll tattoos in ascending size for my sisters and I. Each had their own dinosaur within – mine a tyrannosaurus rex, Claire’s a brachiosaurus and Sarah’s a triceratops

I never planned on my whole arm being covered in tattoos.
Hell, a large part of me finds tattoos entirely skeety and unattractive.
However I somehow made them a huge part of my grieving process

When Sarah died, Laura, our tattoo artist who is booked up solid for years into the future, made special arrangements to squeeze me in, as well as James, Claire, my sister’s widow and even my mom.

 

Mom’s tattoo contains no dinosaurs as she doesn’t share the affinity for them

I had Sarah’s name inked onto my bicep and it just grew from there. In the year following Sarah’s death I added fifteen plus tattoos, including mermaids and penguins and Duncan and paper planes.

A word of advice – if you get someone’s name tattooed on you, morons all over the world will think it’s your name, so prepare yourself. I assume it’s a way better time if you get the name of an opposite gender.

If someone doesn’t fall into the latter category of morons, they usually fall into the  grabbing-you-by-your-arm-and-asking-boorishly-“who’s Sarah?”-like-it’s-their-buisiness category of morons.  At this stage, I find myself bluntly tell them Sarah is my dead sister straight up. I actually get off on making them feel bad for being so god damn rude, to be perfectly honest.

One of my favourites is this self portrait I whipped up of Sarah that rests on my shoulder

 

I thought I might get a new one for National Tattoo Day,  but am feeling a little ‘tattooed out’ this hot and sunny summer having them on display all the time. So instead, I reflected on how far I’ve come and the role tattoos have played in that journey

Thank you to Laura Casey @ Lady Lo’s Custom Tattoos for always being patient and professional and taking me in on short notice and being super clean!

 

Day 187 – July 6

International Kissing Day  

Duncan gets so many kisses all the time . And not just from me…and Kathleen… and Chrissy.. but from strangers.
Just today, a full grown bro dude waiter guy putting out the sandwich board of his restaurant picked Duncan up and kissed him.
Leave it to Duncan to combat toxic masculinity with nothing but bandana and a smile.

He isn’t one for returning kisses. He’s more of a snorter.

He was super embarrassed after this shoot because the red lipstick stain is now just part of his fur. Oh well.

Day 134 – May 14

Thankfully this particular Mother’s Day, I was fortunate enough to experience all consuming painful menstrual cramps!

This allowed me to be engrossed in physical anguish en lieu of the emotional kind which is prompted by every Mother’s Day now that my sister, mother of three, is dead!

Thanks Mother Nature, the most ruthless mother of all 🙂

Instead of weeping and thinking about how Rowan, Ellis and Grant have no one to give macaroni cards to or burn pancakes for every May for the rest of their little lives, I decided to partake in National Dance Like A Chicken Day, the alternative to Mother’s Day, and film Duncan impersonating a chicken to the Chicken Dance song, then eat a thing of Robaxacet

He did a terrible job but I let him think it was great. That’s what Mother’s do, amiright?

D A Y 1 0 0

Wowzers

100 days of steady celebrations

I must be insane.

I feel insane

I began this plight because I didn’t know what else to do with myself.

It was literally either this or medication.

I’m not anti medication and I have 0 judgement about people who take meds.
I just felt, for a very long time, that I was supposed to feel the way I feel.

You can’t, and shouldn’t, lose your sister and just drug the experience away. I had to face it. I chose to feel every inch of the agony. And I did.

But it was getting to a point, undoubtedly escalated by my father-in-law Melvin’s terminal diagnosis, that I didn’t know how I could possibly continue without some help from above or beyond.

And I chose, rather than pharm-ing my way out, to torture myself even further, by ‘celebrating’ my way out.

I can’t say for sure if it’s working or not.
All I know is that I’m still here, and that has to stand for something.

Eating Oysters Rockefeller was without a doubt the worst.
Going For Broke was definitely the biggest hassle.
I learned Bloody Mary’s aren’t the worst thing you can drink (Hot Buttered Rums are),

I’ve managed to celebrated through day long air travel days, weekend long workshops and funerals. I’ve celebrated with strangers and friends, alone and with my dog. I’ve baked more and cooked more than I ever have before.

I’ve written. I’ve written and written and written.
Pretty much everyday or bulk writing to catch up every couple days.
People have even told me I’m good at it.

I’ve eaten more sweets than every before.
I now know what a Sticky Bun is, as well as a Baked Alaska.

I’ve rekindled the flames of my love for photography. Art school photography was so focused on film development and technicalities of printing, I felt robbed of the potential fun. Going digital has enabled me to really experiment with composition and staging. I absolutely love it… except when I have 500 other things to do, which is oft.

Day 100 of Celebrating Everyday… Literally landed on National Siblings Day

I did the math and it’s 921 days since I lost Sarah. The world lost Sarah. I haven’t stopped wishing for a second that it wasn’t so.

I spent the day going through the few things I have left of her

…a note from her student

..the stub from last movie we ever saw together

…her fertility mug that worked all too well

…a grocery list left in a purse I inherited

…origami t-rex Christmas ornament she gave me

…her contact lenses in case she comes back so she can see

..her ashes that I keep in a Matryoshka doll

old photos… cuz there sure as fuck aren’t any ‘new’ photos…

All in all a painful milestone

Happy Sibling’s Day, everyone else!

Tomorrow – National Pet Day