Oh Canada: the mobility scooter edition

Happy Canada Day, hosers! You've seen this dress before, styled more in keeping with its 40s vibe. But today was all about the Canada Day colours.

I'm an ex-patriot American utterly besotted with my chosen land: Canada. I retain dual citizenship, but, barring some kind of apocalypse, I'm not gong back to the States. I like living in a country that acknowledges the existence of other nations, realizes it might not be the best and biggest at everything (including democracy itself), and admits political discussion about the legitimacy of some socialist ideas. Socialized medicine, for example, is a beautiful thing, especially for a disabled gal like myself.

Plus, you know, we've had gay marriage forever, and right wing religious zealots aren't given much of a voice up here.

I know, I know. I can hear all my American readers protesting. I know many wonderful Americans. I'm related to some of them. 

But this is a Canada Day post and I love me my Canada.

Bangle, hat, and sunglasses: vintage

Back to the outfit. Part of why I didn't style it as classically as I did last time you saw it is because it was bloody hot on July 1st. If you know me at all, you know I hate the heat. It makes me feel ill. This probably has a lot to do with how pale I am. I mean, really, the white in this outfit is not just in the dress; my skin adds to the Canadian flag effect too, don't you think?

Ring and brooch: vintage; Dress and bandeau: from JQ Clothing

It was just as hot on this Canada Day as it was last year, which was the last time you saw the little bandeau halter top that's peeking through at the top of this dress. I was just as pleased about the heat this year as I was last year.

I got this hair clip at a corner store. I think the owners had brought it back from their home country which, if I remember correctly, is Vietnam.

I seem to return to my childhood braids on very hot days. 

Braids are somehow cooling. In deference to my age, I generally pin them back now though, to add a bit of maturity to a quite childish hairstyle. I like the "old world," and old fashioned look of pinned braids.

Fabulous bespoke engagement ring: Britton Diamonds; Flower earring was a gift when I was eight; Earrings: vintage

On days of inclement weather or bad back pain, or both, sometimes the thought of wearing a nice outfit is the only thing that gets me out of the house. To paraphrase John Lennon, with back pain like mine, whatever gets me upright and moving is alright. 

Because, as John Lennon also says, "Christ, you know it ain't easy. You know how hard it can be?" 

I'm using a mobility scooter now and I hate that I need it. Most of all, I hate that I need it because a bunch of pedophiles so badly brutalized me as a child that they rendered me disabled. I hate that. Hate hate hate it.

There is more than a little irony in celebrating a country known for its freedoms and human rights -- when I was victim of years of child sex trafficking, of slavery, in that very country. And now, my freedom is still curtailed by the physical repercussions of that slavery.

But I kind of like the above photo. The blurriness makes it look more retro, somehow, and I like me my retro.

Sandals: Josef Seibel

And the scooter is making a lot of things possible for me again, like what I call "scooter shoes," shoes that I couldn't walk in for very long because they don't offer much support, but that are pretty and okay if I'm scooting.

(Back in the olden days, when I could walk well, I had me a lot of high heeled shoes, some so high, I called them "taxi shoes" because they weren't made for walking. Scooter shoes are a variation thereof.)

These shoes aren't anything fancy but they're a lot cooler than shoes that offer more support so I was glad of them.

Hello, Bobby. He loves joining me in the yard these days. He's eighteen and adorable.

I also don't like the way I look in a scooter. I feel like it makes me look squat and rotund. I also think it makes me look "eccentric." Now that I'm visibly disabled, I'm contending with all the stigma around that, including the stigma in my own head. I somehow seem to have this idea that people in scooters don't get to care about style and looking good. I feel that able-bodied people think we move from "well-dressed" to "eccentric" the minute we sit down and scoot. This seems especially true if we like bright colours. I feel more like Mrs. Roper than like Charlotte Issyvoo.

That's absurd, I know, so I'm saying it out loud (okay, writing it silently) to hear how very absurd it is. I'm quite sure that Alicia of Spashionista will have some stern and helpful words for me when she reads this.

Also, I don't like this particular scooter. It's a loaner, till I get my real one. It's too small and has zero shock absorption, so every little crack in the sidewalk bangs the scooter and slams me around and hurts like hell.

Yeah, I'm cranky. You would be too.

Purse: vintage

But I need the damned thing. I've been in more pain for a while and am using a cane all the time again. This one in my purse is a foldable one. I asked Beau to get a photo of my purse and this was what he managed, silly boy.

But he's smart in other ways. That scroll there is chapter four of his PhD thesis, which I'm helping to edit. Having a college English instructor as a fiancée has its merits, eh? (And that is how the infamous Canadian "eh" is used properly, everyone. Bam!)

So, yes, I hate that I need a scooter. I hate why I need a scooter. I hate how I look in the scooter. I hate the particular scooter I'm using right now.

But I do like my regained freedom. I can dress up and go out all by myself, like a real grown-up and everything! I can have little adventures. I can steal flowers to complete my outfit. I can take myself to a cafe to excise passively constructed sentences from Beau's thesis. 

Hummingbird feeder from the wonderful Wild Birds Unlimited

These days, I would be housebound without that scooter. 

It was being housebound in the past that led to my passion for feeding my birds.

I've become pretty good at attracting the little sweeties. For instance, did you know that hummingbirds are particularly fond of fuchsia? This one gets several visits a day.

Still, hummingbirds not withstanding, I do like to get out some.

I can get all creative...

... and take pretty, Canada Day themed photos.

I can go places on my own. 

That's something.

I can feel a bit more like a capable, independent adult again.

But I still hate it.

It makes me feel reduced, diminished. When I get in this scooter, I often think, "So this is what it's come to," and my heart sinks. Maybe if my disability hadn't been caused by violence and rape, I wouldn't feel this way, but it was, and I do. Who would I be, what would I have accomplished, how would my body feel, if all those horrible things had not happened to me?

I feel robbed.

Sometimes I feel like I look just plain pathetic. A friend recently said that, instead of looking pathetic, I look "like a real trooper, especially since I know how you became disabled. You're not letting it stop you. You're still getting out there and doing what you want to do." I tell myself that over and over when I'm out and about in my scooter: This is me being a real trooper.

But I'm not actually getting out there and doing what I want to do. I want to be able-bodied. I want to be getting around on my own two feet, pain free.

Even Bobby hates my scooter. He knows it means I'm leaving. He sits at the fence and looks woebegone. He greets me when I get home. How cute is that?

As usual, it's those little things, those sublime mercies, that keep me going.

So, also as usual these days, it's with mixed feelings that I bid you adieu and Happy Canada Day once more.

(I'm linking up with Visible Mondays on Not Dead Yet and Hat Attack on the The Style Crone.)

Cats and Birds: the little things

I'd been thinking it would be fun to put together a little post of photos that haven't made it into my blog, just photos of minimal, little things that have brightened my admittedly dark days. Then Spy Girl suggested we do a post about minimalism for her 52-Pick-Me-Up challenge so I thought now was the time. As I've often said in Sublime Mercies, it's the little things that keep me going.

Meeting this friendly neighbour cat was a case in point.

It would appear that most of the little things that make me feel better are cats and birds.

Seriously, how can Milo's silliness not bring a smile to my face? That's Bobby's toy, by the way, but he lets Milo sleep with it. Milo starts out playing with it but then he just falls asleep mid-way through.

He has no idea why he's overweight, none at all.

Meanwhile, eighteen year old Bobby is really enjoying being an outdoor cat again. I feel comfortable letting him into our yard because it's fenced well enough that a geriatric guy like him can't get loose and get himself into a dangerous spot.

He's an on and off again diabetic and we had some scares recently as he got dangerously close to a diabetic coma. He's doing well now and has gained weight and grown thicker fur.

Bobby and I both enjoy resting our weary bones outside. This was my view as I lay on the grass the other day -- in the shade, of course because... have you seen how white I am? The sun and I simply do not get along.

Of course, my new engagement ring has been a source of a lot of delight. Here, I took a photo of it, intertwined with its inspiration: tangled honeysuckle vines. You can read all about our his and hers engagement rings here.

As spring melts into summer, I'm really glad I went with a nature theme for my ring.

Beau's bear, Bo, and my bear, Bear, now live together and seem to want to get out into the yard too. They're always up to some kind of mischief. Beau still says he has nothing to do with it.

Our new yard is proving even more of a haven for birds than my little balcony was in the past. This time, I'm not starting out in complete ignorance. I know much more about how to attract which birds: what foods to put out for which birds, when to put the foods out, etc.. Add this to my big yard and lots of trees and... wow!

Maybe you can't understand how exciting this blurry photo is but, for a bird lover like me, finally attracting a Goldfinch is just... wow! He started coming over a week ago, in ful mating plumage, so I hoped he'd show up with a girlfriend soon. He did! You know what that means, don't you? Baby Goldfinches will be here soon! Sigh. : )

Fred, our Northern Flicker friend, also found a mate through us. Every day for quite some time, he rat-a-tat-tatted on our metal railing. It was adorable. You can't see Fred very well here, but, trust me, Norther Flickers have it all: colour, stripes, polka dots, size, and the weirdest, most dexterous tongues you've ever seen.

So they're noisy. That's okay. Their noise can't begin to compare to the squawks of protest from the juvenile ravens that woke the whole neighbourhood at 4:30 every morning for a few weeks. Yes, ravens!! Right here in the middle of the city. Their parents were trying to teach them to feed themselves. They weren't interested in doing so. Teenagers!

The house finches have been bringing their young brood around too. The juveniles are loud, curious, imprudent, and incredibly clumsy. They regularly fall of the feeder (usually whilst peering in the window at me or the cats) but it's okay, since they have wings. Don't you wish your kids had wings at their clumsy stages?

That's their papa on the right, with his red plumage. We had a really big rainstorm the other day and all the birds hid from it in the trees. Afterwards, they were ravenous and the scene at this feeder was chaos for quite some time.

The rain and our very long spring is what makes the land here so fecund. These flowers were in a neighbour's yard. I just love the symmetry of this photo -- light and dark.

Just like Milo and Bobby!

Or Beau in the light and shadow in our kitchen. One of his customers suggested that he make his world history timeline (which you can buy here) into a puzzle. He was so excited when the puzzles arrived that he obsessively worked on his for hours and hours. They're selling well too.

Yes, I'm marrying a brilliant geek. Isn't that sexy?

Do you like our bright yellow, cracked ice, Formica table? Me too.

What do you think of the matching chairs we got for them last week? Okay, the table is 50s and the chairs are 60s, but these chairs were so odd and fun, we had to get them. The boys are only ten (almost) and thirteen (almost) and "camp" is lost on them, so they're not as fond of the chairs as Beau and I are.

Small, second hand acquisitions continue delight me. I got these ear clips for a song at a thrift store, and then later found this matching brooch at another store. Sad to say, one of the rhinestones since fell off, but it's still quite the find.

As I've said before, my maternal grandmother is to blame for my brooch obsession. I've been fiddling with Pinterest in the last several weeks and I decided to make a board just for her: Grandma Ruth's Board. It's almost all brooches. She never pierced her ears.

The house is starting to really come together. Here's my new writing table (which used to be my kitchen table when I didn't live with children). Doesn't it look inviting? We have no television or computer in the living room, but we have books and a writing table.

That's my dear, departed Morgan in the photo there.

So, life has not been easy lately, to say the least, but there have, as always, been some perks, minimal perks but important ones.

Bo and Bear wish you a good night. So do Beau and I.

'80s Career Woman, Jessica Fletcher, and the Scarf-Ruffle Thing

When I put this outfit together, I felt it was one of my more contemporary efforts -- relative to the more vintage looks I usually wear. 

For one thing, it has more modern proportions: looser top, with skinny jeans... 

... and petite Oxfords.

It was a bonus that my shirt coordinated well with our blueberry patch.

Shoes: Aldo; Jeans: Reitman's; Blouse: Everly; Sunglasses: from a street vendor; Right hand ring: Effy; Earrings and Trifari brooch: vintage; Unbelievably perfect bespoke engagement ring: Britton Diamonds

I felt that my outfit was very grown-up and sophisticated.

Chic even.

Angela Lansbury as Jessica Fletcher in Murder She Wrote

So it may come as a surprise to you that my main inspiration for my outfit was none other than the not so contemporary Jessica Fletcher of Murder She Wrote.

I thought the way I wore this Trifari brooch was particularly inspired and I loved the way it coordinated so well with my right hand ring and my engagement ring, about which I am still completely and totally over the moon. 

But I was sure the idea was Jessica's, not mine.

More Angela as Jessica -- in scarf ruffle things

I could find no photographic evidence of this, though. Did I only imagine I'd seen her do it too?

No matter. The point is that, though my look was "modern," it was also quite '80s.  

Lily Tomlin, Dolly Parton, and Jane Fonda in the very good, very funny, very feminist movie, 9 to 5. (God, how I want Tomlin's skirt!)

In the early '80s, the "scarf ruffle thing," as it's called in Jane Wagner's play, Search for Signs, was de rigueur for the new breed of career woman.

I think it was the "feminine" answer to the tie.

Joan Collins in Dynasty

Every powerful woman wore one, from Joan Collins ...

Dustin Hoffman in the very funny and very feminist Tootsie

... to Tootsie (actually Dustin Hoffman in drag) ...

Working Girl, also very funny and very feminist

... to the cast of Working Girl.

Of course, I've always have the '80s "big hair thing covered, no problem.

(I've already mentioned to you that my hair seems to change colour depending on the light. Today it was cooperating still further by looking like I'd given it a maroon-ish henna treatment, a la the later '80s.)

And I'm not afraid of the "statement earring."

Diane Keaton in Baby Boom

So I can look like an '80s career woman, right? They could have it all, right? Love, family, career -- all. No problem!

Jane Fonda in 9 to 5

Thus the harried look.

I'm good at that one. Beau said, "Give me a not-in-pain look." This was the best I could do. My back pain's been even worse than usual for a long time now.

But let's get another look at Jane Fonda's glasses in a happier moment, shall we?

Do they remind you of anything or anyone?

I'll give you another hint.

You guessed it: Jessica Fletcher herself! I was trying to fill some mighty big footprints here, metaphorically speaking.

That's not so very easy when simply walking is causing problems. Balancing on these rocks for these photos was almost too much for my back. Thus my holding on to the tree for safe measure. 

I know I've gained some weight in the past few months, since I've been even less able to exercise than usual. Mostly, I'm happy with the larger bossoms (isn't that a funny, archaic word?) that come with my weight gain, but they are causing me some wardrobe... issues.

So, what with my worsened back and my slightly transparent top revealing my new D-cup (yes, D-cup!!) bra, I was going for a more casual '80s look -- say, the '80s career woman in jeans, on a weekend getaway to the country.

Heather Locklear, baby. Yes, I had a crush on her when I was about twelve.

And, yes, my skinny jeans were nice and '80s too. Combined with itty-bitty, lace-up shoes, they spell weekend in the country, right?

In my case, the country is my backyard in the middle of the city but I like it just fine.

It's just so pretty.

Perfect for a career woman on a break.

(Special guest appearances from Bobby, the black cat, and Milo, the orange cat.)

(If you'd like to see more of Jessica Fletcher: Fashion Plate, check out my Pinterest page all about her fashion sense -- and be sure to read my commentary.)

(I'm linking this up to Visible Mondays at Not Dead Yet and Share In Style at Mis Papelicos.)