Saturday, December 31, 2011

Reflections and Wishes for 2012


This is a post that will go to both my blogs.

In my little corner of the world where there is a spirit of benevolence and generosity, I try to stay away from news of mayhem, violence, discontent, extreme selfishness that negates others’ needs, hatred, pursuits of materialism at the exclusion of uplifting ones … the list could go on.

While I’m far from claiming that Tequisquiapan is paradise, I reckon that it inclines one—not everyone… but certainly me-to pare down on material concerns and spend time on spiritual considerations. I might add …as it behoves me at this stage of my life. So at the end of 2011, please allow me to share some reflections with you by first admitting that my heart is filled with gratitude. Gratitude for the inspiration that sent me to Mexico; gratitude for the strength and determination to build my own little house; gratitude for the help that I found along the way; gratitude for this wondrous world of clear blue skies and shining stars; gratitude for my family and friends; gratitude for my readers that validate my continuing to write; and I could go on.

For a number of years now, I have read accounts on NDERF of people who have experienced clinical death and been resuscitated after crossing over. Those who have had a positive experience, and even those who at first had a negative one, at times very frightening, followed by a sense of being helped into a more positive one, ALL relate that the overwhelming memory that they bring following their experience is that of LOVE.  And that their lives are changed forever. They also become aware that each life has a particular goal and they choose to return to accomplish it.

For me, a source of inspiration has often come from Marianne Williamson’s writings, and in particular “A Return to Love”. Permit me to quote a few gems:-

“Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.”

“We are not held back by the love we didn't receive in the past, but by the love we're not extending in the present.”

“You may believe that you are responsible for what you do, but not for what you think. The truth is that you are responsible for what you think, because it is only at this level that you can exercise choice. What you do comes from what you think. ”

Since the thought precedes the deed, I’ll have to remind myself of these inspiring thoughts to turn my behaviour into something that not only brings me peace and contentment, but results in a kinder disposition towards the world and its living creatures.

While I’m far from being keen on resolutions at the beginning of a new year, there is always room for improvement. As an Aries, patience is not my main virtue. It has finally dawned on me after reading about all these NDEs and reflecting on my life, that my goal in this life is probably learning more patience… and more forbearance. Here I am in a new country where I’m investing the later part of my life learning to build a house. I have now been living in my RV on my lot for pretty close to two years. A little at a time, I see my little house going up, yet may not be able to live in it for another year if all goes well. I’m doing this in a small place where at times, one may miss many of the amenities up North. The combination of these two certainly constitute a lesson in patience and forbearance. So I pray that I will finally master these two instead of sometimes chafing at the bit.

This morning I came upon this prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. Shamelessly, I borrow from many sources for my own personal edification. At times, from Christian ones, at others from Sufism, Buddhism, Shamanism, Native Spirituality, even Moslem… It is my deepest belief that ALL religions form a pyramid at the base of which is a great diversity of beliefs and religious customs, and at its apex, the Source of Creation, the Universal Intelligence, the Great Spirit, by whatever one may name It.

Here is the prayer:

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

Oh, Divine Father, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

To be understood, as to understand;

To be loved, as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

I think that it could very well be a universal prayer regardless of any religious content, but based on convictions that would make for a better world if adhered to.

Not an easy task, but let me add that however much I fall short of it, I’ll probably die trying.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

People’s Reactions to Seniors and Old Age


I guess nobody wants to be reminded of their mortality. Yet, the statistics are dead on (pun intended) as each birth leads inexorably towards death. Then finally reaches it. You’re probably thinking that in this holiday season, what a subject to dwell on… But not a day passes by without my thinking about it. Not out of a morbid sense; just as a matter of fact.

Then, I’m also constantly reminded of it by people’s reactions at the sight of seniors, (that includes me) from family members or close enough acquaintances with whom an old person might be familiar. But I’ll get to this a bit later on.

For now, let me cite an example. Strangers, but not all, sitting on a bus for instance, seem to look right through the older person or after a short glance, look anywhere but directly at the senior. We’ve donned the cloak of invisibility… Thus, by pretending lack of attention or awareness, it justifies remaining sitting down until it’s time to get off the bus. Much younger people seem totally oblivious and continue their chatting or listening to whatever they were into until their bus stop while we hang on to the overhead pole for dear life. Speaking just for me, I choose to leave at a time when there will be seats available so that I don’t have to deal with standing up in a moving vehicle.

A particular annoyance is about offspring who deem it necessary to intervene when seniors contemplate a change or simply a job to do. As if the sight of a wrinkled face, gray or white hair, triggered the need in younger persons to offer “help” in the form of suggestions, but more often than not, definite advice? My friend has an unmarried daughter in her mid-twenties still living at home workless, who constantly advises her mother on how to dress a table, how to arrange furniture, how to do the laundry, how to do this and how to do that. A few weeks ago, my friend’s daughter even advised me on how to hammer a nail!!!  My friend often leaves her house to pay me a visit just to escape.

I admit that I don’t know what prompts a daughter or son to counsel a parent about life… when to stop RV’ing for instance… or how to organize one’s life or one’s house… when and where to move. And I’m not referring here to seniors who definitely show signs of diminishing capacities, but to those who are still in full command of theirs. Neither do I allege that all adult children do this, although I reckon that many do. Do we really appear so clueless that anyone short of our 20 to 30 years’ experience or more over theirs warrants intervention?

Let me offer some remarks that would help smooth out relationships between adult children and their senior parents:

Gray hair does NOT indicate rotting brain;

Wrinkled hands do NOT indicate inability to deal with household chores… but reluctance to do some; sometimes, we’d rather smell the roses or listen to the singing bird;

Shorter steps do NOT indicate incapacity to move but perhaps ill fitting shoes or corns;

And let’s face it… refusing certain invitations or activities does not imply that we CANNOT participate… just that we HAVE NO DESIRE TO. After a lifetime of experiences, many have lost their appeal.

A more tranquil approach to life does NOT mean we lost our spirit, but just that we’ve already done it all.

Let me compare seniors to onions. When we were teenagers, we thought ourselves immortal. At 15, doesn’t one know all about life? But a few strikes as we moved into adulthood and later on taught us. And as we progressed through life’s experiences, we found out that it was costly to insist on making all the mistakes by oneself just to learn. Life is too short and we couldn’t make them all. Layer after layer, we let go of expectations that were unrealistic and got to learn who we were at the core. Our goals became more attainable simply by virtue of self-knowledge.

I know that sometimes, we take longer to make a decision. That’s because we have lived long enough to have repented of hasty ones. In our fifties, we may have chosen to hang on to a more youthful appearance. But that’s a lot of work and eventually, we accepted the correct time since we simply couldn’t stop the clock. A self-evident truth that doesn’t spell defeat but wisdom.

Perhaps it is that all that we have let go of is not worthy of keeping.

There are cultures that cherish and honour their seniors and even seek their advice. Now, that’s turning the table!

I’m inviting all seniors who wish to offer comments to do so. Not necessarily gripes, but little quirks that are sometimes an affront to our age and capabilities.

Next week, back to construction.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Health News–and a Prelude to “People’s Reaction to Old Age and Seniors”


Well, it seems that the crisis is almost over. Yesterday I went to the General Hospital in San Juan del Rio, a brand new building open for only 3 days. Spanking new!

Before I go any further, let me state something with absolute certainty. I am blessed with very good health. I can’t recall the last time that I had a cold or the flu, and this without flu shots. Before I took to the road again, I passed a complete medical with flying colours. No high blood pressure, no sugar or diabetes, no cholesterol, no this, no that. And I must add that this surprised my physician as he kept scrolling down his form with increasing surprise. He’d collected 6 vials of blood for thoroughness.

So last Wednesday, when I went to see a doctor in Tequis, I had checked on the internet for symptoms of CO poisoning and I could have been a model case. This, plus the belated awareness that I had been delinquent in ensuring a sufficient admission of fresh air whenever I used the heater out of reluctance to let the cold in. In addition, the symptoms of nausea and vertigo were not exactly recent. I’d used the heater since the beginning of November and they had become progressively worse since shortly after. Yet clueless, I had remained ignorant of the connection with the gas heater. No longer.

Basically, I was hoping that the doctor would listen to my tale and direct me to where I could get a gasometrical blood test—it measures the percent of CO in the blood—and then point me to where I could be administered pure oxygen, the prescribed antidote. Nothing of the sort happened. After checking my blood pressure, which turned out to be 159/80, an acceptable reading given my age, he flatly stated that there was no way to get the test here, gave me a script for meds to relieve the nausea and another for the vertigo; not without adding a request for a test on lipids. My last cholesterol test had shown a level of 183, which is quite acceptable. Of dead animals, I eat only chicken and fish and am in the process of phasing them out. Reduced risk of cholesterol.

I got the meds, took them, with hardly any improvement. So I headed for the hospital. The triage nurse filled her computer form, had another one check my blood pressure—by then 159/100—and flatly stated that my problem was probably high blood pressure! By then it was about 2 pm. So on to the emergency bed where I was instructed to take EVERYTHING off. I was then hooked to an IV saline drip (one of 2) on the doctor’s order (whom by the way I NEVER got to meet), and supplied some blood for a gasometrical test… and… got my blood pressure checked. This time 159/83, which this new nurse qualified as ok.

Three hours passed. 

At that point, I’d gotten increasingly agitated. Darkness was soon coming, my dogs were outside without benefit of light or shelter, and it would be another 30 to 35 minutes for my ride to come from Tequis to pick me up. No results from the test. No visit by a doctor. The nurse came to check my blood pressure, this time 180/108!!!! My hospital stay had to come to an end or those numbers would go through the roof. I calmly got dressed and signalled to the nurse to PLEASE remove the second drip, which by now had been fully administered. The triage nurse came and asked me to sign a form stating that I had voluntarily (and gladly) decided to exit. Done.

For the sake of clarity, I’ll add that there were 3 nurses on duty and 4 patients in the emergency ward. A nurse said that she’d be by to remove the drip.

Another 50 minutes passed.

(I’d been a student nurse in my younger days but had opted out after a bit less than one year. It could be that I’m not the ideal patient, as the saying goes.)

I removed the needle from my hand aware that my ride was already way past halfway to San Juan, made a mess of it, apologized, got a bandage on my hand and walked out, everyone clucking disapproval. I never got the results of the gasometrical test.

I later learned that I had been referred to as “the lady with the respiratory problem by the intake worker!!!”

I knew with absolute certainty that I was suffering from CO poisoning. Logic and common sense dictated it. I’d now been blessed with high blood pressure, chest problems, not counting being too mentally challenged to know the difference between any of them, this in spite of claiming ownership and knowledge of a body in which I’d lived for over seven decades…

This post will be followed by another one with the second part of the title addressed.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

An Alarming Experience


For the past 5 to 6 weeks, the nights had been getting very cold. The residual heat from the day would keep the RV comfortable until around 2 or 3 a.m. I usually keep the kitchen window, which is approximately mid-way from the front to the back where my bed is, confident that there was enough oxygen to sustain life with my propane heater on. I’d fire it up for some hours before getting up.

For the past 2 to 3 weeks, I’d been feeling terribly dizzy just moving my head from side to side, especially in bed. Upon waking up, I felt very lethargic and despondent. I’d ascribe it to Seasonal Affective Disorder and think no more about it since I’d feel better during the day with the sun shining.

Yesterday was altogether different. Attempting to get up, I had a very hard time focusing my eyes. Everything was twirling around. I knew that I had to get up but vertigo and nausea were a problem. I had to use the walls as props to keep me upright. Then, when I caught sight of myself in a mirror, I saw that the white of my eyes was the colour of a ripe tomato. I looked like some vampire and that scared the living daylights out of me! Scared doesn’t even come close to describe the way I felt.

My thoughts were a jumble of trying to figure out what was going on. But when I focused on the colour red, something finally hit me. I recalled that in cases of death by carbon monoxide poisoning, the skin turns bright cherry red. I immediately shut down the heater and opened all windows and door. Then went outside to take great gulps of fresh air. It helped a bit, but still, there was no way that I’d make it even to the bus stop to get to Tequis for medical help I was so unsteady on my feet and couldn’t focus. Did I panic? You bet! To make matters worse, I could get no signal on my cell for over two hours.

Eventually, I got a signal and went on the internet to check what were the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning … OMG! I needed help and called Yvonne. She came to pick me up and we drove to Tequis to a doctor’s office. He said that taking a blood sample for analysis was useless as there was no diagnostic service for CO poisoning. All that he could do was prescribe something for the nausea and for the vertigo.

Reading further on the internet later in the day, I reviewed how long I’d been having the symptoms—for weeks, if not longer. I read that it amounted to chronic poisoning! I figure that since the symptoms had gotten progressively worse, the gas had accumulated in my body, and could have been fatal within not much time… minutes! I figure that I had reached the acute stage.

In retrospect, I realize that I should have known better when I’d light up my propane gas heater and left it on from the wee hours in the morning till I’d get up. . . and I had done it nightly since early November.

You would think that coming from the Great White North as I do, I’d be more hardened to the cold. Not so. I can tough it up during the day but am accustomed to nights made comfortable by central heating. I’m getting a little better but understand that only with time will the symptoms clear up completely. The vertigo bothers me and I have yet to get rid of muscle and joints pain where there had been none before. SAD was not the culprit in my increasing depression and lack of mental acuity and a bevy of other symptoms, which will disappear as I get rid of the CO in my blood.

The dogs had it better than I did, being close to the open kitchen window. My bed is way in the back in a very enclosed cubbyhole. Tina had not been herself for a while now and I’d been flummoxed as to what was troubling her. I should have been awake to her signals.

My determination to finish the house is now being informed by a sense of urgency. I simply cannot face another winter living in the RV. Money has never been a pursuit in and of itself, just out of necessity. It is now.

However, I must add that I’m very thankful for being alive after this episode. It had been a matter of minutes…

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

New Post Notification - the Term Followers

Just a quick one to confirm that by subscribing to the new post notification as explained on my post of yesterday,  any new post is emailed to the subscriber. Also, please read Tesaje's comment and suggestion on yesterday's post. It is another way of being notified of a new post.

I fully agree with Tesaje about the term "followers" being somewhat pejorative as I added in my comment following Tesaje's. If you also agree, would you so advise Google, please. I will.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

New Post Notification–Followers

I sinned by ignorance. I had assumed that once a reader has signed up as a Follower of a blog, it automatically ensured notification whenever a new post was published. Wrong.

So I had to correct this. I have added an option just above the caption Followers to allow readers to be notified whenever a new post is published. This will save time as I assume that every follower had to check the blog each time just to find out whether something new had been added. Just enter the email address at which you wish to receive notification. You will be asked by email to confirm to Feedburner your subscription to that service. That’s all. You don’t even have to be a follower.

I created a new email address without registering as follower of my blog and received the email. I confirmed on the link to Feedburner and from now on, I’ll be receiving notification of any new post. I’ll keep my new email box active just to check whether all who wish to be notified receive the email.

Costs and a New Project & Bernal


I’m happy to report that my construction expenses were unusually low this month. Here they are:

Tall ladder 1,271.
Cement 224.
Bricks 860.
Labour for 5 days 2,750.

Total $6,610.
Or around $500. dollars  

This is good as it will leave me enough to start a personal project, that of making my dining room table. I have already bought the materials, wood table legs, plywood for the table base, glue, screws, and ceramic tiles. Roberto, an architect who had to give up architecture because of an accident that cost him one eye and damaged the other, has a shop that sells handmade ceramic objects, tiles, wall sconces, lavabos, etc.

Yvonne knew the shop and we went there a few times. As I browsed the tiles, I fell in love with a French design. Very graciously Roberto lent me a few tiles with which I could “play” deciding on a design. It was fun and I finally was ready to order the tiles. It took quite some time getting them, they’re made by hand.

I took a photo of the tiles arranged in the design that I want for the table top; it is below. It is not complete; there will be an additional narrow border of plain half tiles and an outer border of wood trim. I still have to find the grout in a colour that will match the background of the tiles.

Here’s a portion of what the table top will look like:

Brick Arch 014-1

The kitchen area of the combined dining/kitchen will include an island that will act as a demarcation between both sides of the large room. I’m thinking of using a similar ceramic border for the island. I find it enjoyable to design and absolutely exhilarating to see a project become reality.

Also, I had planned on having vaulted brick ceilings in all the rooms except the bathroom where the roof will have to be flat to support the water tank. The latter feeds water by gravity. But I changed my mind and will have the bedroom roof also flat and reinforced with re-bars. The roof will eventually serve as a terrace from which I can gaze at the scenery, which includes the Peña de Bernal, some 12 to 15 km from home.

For the curious, the Peña de Bernal is one of the few monoliths in the world that include Gibraltar. It was formed 100 million years ago and has probably shrunk with time. It is solid rock and at its base is a small pueblo San Sebastian Bernal. Here’s a link to it:


I may not have much to report until after New Year’s Day, so in the meantime let me wish to all a Merry Christmas and a most enjoyable Holiday Season.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Brick Arch–Last Wall to Go Up


Here we go with yet new workers… but these are here to last, I hope. They are both very industrious, professional, and incredibly multi-talented. I will introduce each to you on the job.

The very last wall to go up, and it’s a beauty! A while back I had recalled some of the old but beautiful apartments and houses in Old Montreal and NDG, many with a whole wall made of bricks. Even though it isn’t usually done here, I decided that the wall separating the living room from the kitchen/dining room area would go up in bricks. I had plans to have both sides in bricks but had to opt for one side only because of many factors—time constraints, solidity and durability of wall, and its being combined with the entrance door opening in the dining room. So that side will be covered and painted.

Luis is the artist that was elected to build the arch. Below is a photo of the starting point. First a beam resting on studs and absolutely level. On that beam are blocks that will be the base over which the arch will be built. As you can see, there are bricks that constitute the form of an arch over which some mortar is applied. This base will be temporary. The rounded part is determined from a wire nailed in the center of the bottom beam and stretched from one side to the other.

Brick Arch 013-1

If you double click on the photo on the right, you’ll be able to see the wire hanging down from the beam against the middle stud. The photo on the left shows the form that is the temporary basis for the arch.

Brick Arch 008

Here is Luis, a master mason in my view. Brick Arch 003On the photo below, he shows how a number of strings strategically placed will keep the shape of the arch constant and the whole thing level. He constantly checked the proper placement of the bricks by means of a string that he would run against the structure as he was building.


The photo below shows the strings that Luis has strung from side to side to remind him of the proper height and level. I tried to coax him into the bright smile that he usually has but I think that he was a bit shy or the sun was in his face.

Brick Arch 004

Once the mortar has sufficiently hardened, it has to be “cleaned” by scraping some off to a regular depth everywhere. This was done by a homemade implement consisting of a nail in a piece of wood. Thinking that it would make the job easier, Yvonne brought a tool that is used in Holland to do a similar job on the left. But in the end, Jesus went back to using his self-made tool that he exhibits in the photo below on the right.

Mason's tool 002

Further down on the right is Jesus in front of his handiwork with the tools. The smile says it all!

Mason's tool 001

Jesus’s job is to mix the mortar and carry it to Luis, to water the bricks before they are used, this to ensure proper “sticking”, to prepare the planks that will be used to make a form into which concrete will be poured for the castillos. The castillos serve to cement together the walls, around the door and window frames.

Whenever he runs out of things to do, he helped me mark the places where electric outlets will be located. He marked the contour of each box, then indicated whether the wire would come from above or from the floor. Here’s an example:

The photo on the left indicates a box for a wall switch in the bedroom wall with the wire coming in from above. With the help of my new generator, he then sawed right through the bricks or blocks and chiselled each by hand, as shown on the photo below.

Brick Arch 006-1Brick Arch 011

As I’m finishing this, both Luis and Jesus are preparing to pour concrete into the forms to unite the brick wall to the side ones.

This will be it for construction in 2011. I will post before next year and will resume the construction tales at some time in January.

I will post the costs separately as I have to gather up my bills.

From an idea, then to a rough sketch followed by a more detailed plan… and now to walls standing solidly on the Mexican soil. What a journey … and it’s not over! 

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Sunday, December 4, 2011

Never a Dull Moment…

The past week has seen more activity of a sort that one doesn’t really wish for. My new guys working for three days from November 30 to last Friday are Luis, a mason, and Jesus, his helper. Since the helper has a bit of free time between chores for the mason, I had asked Jesus to help me check on the state of my batteries used for the house, in conjunction with the solar energy. The panels were on the RV’s roof and COVERED with dust. The batteries are housed in a very small cubbyhole difficult of access. They are the Deep Cycle type and quite heavy. I had long suspected that they might need an addition of distilled water. The problem was that I could not locate where to get distilled water around here. First difficulty. The second was swiftly on the heels of the first one; who would help me do it?

That task took a number of weeks to complete as I was (as all of you are probably aware of…) without wheels. I was finally successful in locating a place where the right stuff was available and bought two liters. Then, I had to wait until I found someone available to help me with that chore. More weeks went on without any kind of progress, until Jesus (the helper) came into the picture. I’m sorry to state that this is often the difficulty and frustration of dealing with what we, up North, would consider daily humdrum realities of life. (I’ll add that living in Mexico has many redeeming qualities… and that they fortunately far outweigh the problems).

Jesus quickly warmed up to the task. I have two 6 volt batteries connected in a series and a 12 volt one connected to the others in parallel. (For the purists out there, I know that it isn’t the ideal method, but it was all that my cubbyhole could hold.) I asked him to disconnect first, then to hold together those wires that were connected together and label. He did his very best but it was mid-afternoon and he was tired. The sun was getting low on the horizon as we’re more than 6,000 feet above sea level. Unknowingly for him and unbeknownst to me, he created a short circuit.

When I looked at the regulator, I saw that from a reading of 9.8 (a terrible reading) it was rapidly going down to 8…. then 7.1, the final reading. That’s when I remembered that I should have covered the solar panels before proceeding with checking on the batteries and adding water to the cells. To my eyes, tragedy had struck because of my lack of awareness. The inverter was uncheckeable reading totally blank as was the regulator, the fridge would not start for lack of sufficient power to generate a spark, and neither was the water heater. What to do?

Nothing, other than to cover the solar panels (albeit a tad late for that!) light up the candles and pray. Jesus had called on a friend who was a full-fledged electrician but could not, and should not have either, come this late in the day. Diego (the electrician) came promptly at 8 A.M. yesterday, the following morning and I had to tell him my sordid story of neglect. Not a proud moment in my life. His first task was to check on the state of the batteries. My 12 volt one registered at 2.8!!!!! Honestly, I thought that short of fervent prayers to the God/ess of Batteries, nothing could be salvaged.

We took it to town for recharging (using his car) and left it there. The 6 volt ones were both ok. Then, Diego’s car gave up (in despair?) shortly after he’d gotten home from Tequis. He came back a few hours later with a 12V fully charged but only by taking the local bus with the battery to make it back to my lot. All of that had taken from 8 AM to about 3 PM, allowing an hour for lunch. Diego went to work. Very professional. After high school, he had taken 3 years to complete his requirements for Industrial Electricity. In Mexico, there are 3 levels—Domestic, Commercial, and Industrial—the last requiring one year more of schooling. He was so generous with his help and time that I decided right then that he would have the contract for the electrical installation of the house. His pay? $300. pesos a day; that is about $25.00!

The long and short of it is that I again have power, in spite of my failings, and can use my computer. This kind of problem is why I opted out of RV’ing full time. As available as were the helpers and the knowledge of full time RV’ers in the beautiful Arizona desert, there were 5 more months of uncertainties on the road where qualified help wasn’t always available or was frightfully expensive. Tomorrow or the day after, photos will be taken showing the construction progress. It’s awesome! I swear endless gratitude to the Powers-that-Be for always providing me with the kind of help that I need. Uncanny!

So let not my small tribulations be a deterrent for getting on with your dreams and projects. We, as women, do not shirk and wither away from giving birth, do we? And men, do you shy away from producing offspring despite the hard labour and commitment to come in caring for them? If you have children, you certainly know what I’m talking about.

So I go on. As you also must go on. Life isn’t always easy, but it’s certainly worthwhile!

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